


Upstream

by QueenMaria



Series: Grey-Dawn [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Helgen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMaria/pseuds/QueenMaria
Summary: Aneira flees the torched remains of Helgen alongside the man she'd thought would leave her to die. As they try to plan for the future, fate and reason interfere with their plans.





	1. With Me, Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Another Skyrim story, because I can't get enough of that game!
> 
> This chapter is really just to give you an idea of how Helgen went, and how certain interactions went down.

Her legs throbbed with each step as she maneuvered herself onto the first floor of the burning structure. She slid quickly through a gap in the wood, giving a small grunt as her legs took the brunt of the sudden drop. She wished the Stormcloaks had been quick enough to cut her bindings before they had all started running. Bound as she was, she could neither brace her hands on the floor from her landing nor properly heal the consequent injuries to her legs.

She endeavored to keep her back straight as she burst out of the building, choking on the black smoke that filled the air. Her body was beginning to ache terribly and her head pulsed painfully from the head wound she'd sustained in the early hours of the morning. If only she could free her hands and properly heal herself-

She brought herself to an abrupt stop at the sight of the red haired soldier crouched in front of her. He paid her little heed, his attention focused completely on the scene before them. Aneira tore her eyes from the back of his head to stare past him and the armored old man beside him. The legionnaire shouted for a young boy to come to them just as the black monstrosity landed behind the prone man on the ground. The child dashed away from the creature toward the legionnaire seconds before they all rushed to the side of the dragon's path of fire.

The soldier turned his soot and sweat stained face to her as the monster took to the sky again. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned to shout an order to the old man to look after the child before putting a hand on her arm. "Come on!"

And then she was sprinting behind another stranger as they evaded the flames and debris that Helgen had become. The Nord seemed constantly aware of her presence, shouting instructions and grasping her arm to put her out of harm's way. They slammed into a stone wall together as the black dragon's wings rammed into the ground on either side of them, and the soldier cleared a path for them both as they dashed through the remains of a burning house.

She cursed breathlessly when they came upon a group of soldiers led by the aging general. She took a few panicked steps back, worrying she would need to sprint away should they decide her failed execution mattered when a city was burning. But they didn't care, too focused on sending arrows in the dragon's direction, and the soldier turned back to her when his general told him to head to the Keep and retreat.

"It's you and me, prisoner. Stay close!"

Aneira didn't need to be told twice, thanking the gods for his protection as the world around them went mad and her bindings rendered her powerless.

They raced to the Keep together, stopping only when the remains of the Stormcloaks met them in the open courtyard. Ralof of Riverwood and Hadvar, as she came to know the soldier's name, threw sharp words across the space before both looked at her to follow them.

"With me, prisoner! Let's go!"

The blonde Stormcloak raced past her, heading for a door to their right. She wondered for a moment if she should follow him instead. Didn't the legionnaire keep calling her prisoner? Shouldn't she flee him while she had the chance? But Hadvar yelled to her from a closer door, and told her he would cut her free once they were inside. She cast one last look at Ralof before charging after the Imperial soldier, praying she was not chasing her own death sentence.

His words contemplating the end of the world were breathless as he quickly pulled his dagger through the ropes around her wrists. Her hands and arms were red from the small rivers of blood that had opened under the coarse bindings.

"Gods, you're a mess. I'm sorry, there wasn't time to do that sooner." He went to pick up a white cloth on a table near them when she enveloped her wrists with restoration magic.

"It's alright," she breathed, closing her eyes in relief as the cuts closed. Her hands moved to her aching skull, and she felt her headache disappear as the head wound was treated.

Hadvar stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Useful skill to have, I guess. Well, take a look around. There should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns.

"Don't bother," Aneira stated, reaching out to carefully take his sword arm. The skin was red and blistering, likely to leave the flesh permanently discolored and warped if not treated quickly. Hadvar exhaled a little shakily as her magic washed over him, branching out to cloak his body in its golden glow. His skin healed and grew over the wounds, restoring his arm to its normal condition. Aneira nodded to herself, satisfied that he was fully healed, and moved further into the room to find better protection.

The keep rumbled ominously as the dragon continued its assault. She hurried to don the Imperial soldier's armor, grateful to have found a woman's chest and possessions. Hadvar brought her a sword from a rack against the wall, and she tested it briefly. It wasn't a terrific blade, but it would do.

They found a key and unlocked the door, hurrying through the stone corridor until they heard voices beyond a gate. Peering through the bars, Hadvar grimaced at the Stormcloaks resting in the room.

"Maybe we can reason with them," he whispered, carefully raising the gate. Aneira nodded, lowering her sword as they stepped into the room together. The Stormcloaks immediately rose to their feet, weapons rising quickly despite their obvious fatigue.

"Hold on, we only want to-"

"This is what you want, huh?" The male shouted, charging at them with a greatsword that both dodged.

The skirmish was over fairly quickly given Hadvar and Aneira's superior combat skills. As she relieved the woman of her gauntlets, Aneira wondered if all the Stormcloaks had such poor battle sense and how the rebellion could still be a threat if they did. As they moved deeper underground, Aneira was grateful she had chosen to follow the red head. He had acted rationally, trying to avoid conflict with the Stormcloaks while they had wasted time attacking them. With all the insanity unraveling around her, at least she'd chosen someone with a level head on his shoulders. He reacted quickly when the ceiling in front of them collapsed, shouting for her to take cover as he hit the floor.

They found only continued hostility from the Stormcloaks when they entered a storeroom and found two rebels rummaging through the barrels. Dispatching of them, Aneira picked up the sack they'd partially filled and shoved the food lying around the room inside it. Ridiculous, but at least now she had some possessions and sustenance if she made it out of Helgen alive. Hadvar waited while she gathered the items and gold held by Ulfric's men, even calling out to check the barrels for potions. His instincts were good, and they ran further down the sloped corridor with a least some protection beyond her magic.

It didn't take long for them to find more trouble in the keep as they came upon a group of Stormcloaks dueling in what, to Aneira's disgust, appeared to be a torture room. Hadvar reflected her distaste, but he still warned the torturer of the danger while she looted the room and dead for supplies. She flinched at the mage lying dead in a cell, but even Hadvar saw the need to collect whatever they could carry. He gave her some lock picks to get inside when the torture master refused to provide help, and he didn't flinch when she popped the door open with ease. The clothes and hood on the body were free of blood or damage, and she realized from the discoloration around the mouth and eyes that the man had been poisoned to death. She tugged the enchanted clothes from the body quickly before turning back to the torturer.

"You aren't even clever enough to stop yourself from killing someone? What kind of a soldier are you?" Aneira demanded, slamming the cage door behind her as Hadvar came to take her arm.

"Watch your mouth, girl, or I could just as easily put you in there to join him." The Imperial sneered, crossing his arms and leaning back against a wooden pillar.

She snorted in disgust, daring him to try it before moving away from the vile man, slinging her pack over her shoulder. Hadvar led the way down another corridor, ignoring the torturer's snide remark that there was no way out.

Hadvar slowed in front of her as they heard the sound of running water and hurried voices. Peering carefully around the corner while Hadvar waited, Aneira was dismayed to see more than half a dozen Stormcloaks spread across a cave like room. She slipped the pack quietly from her shoulder as she readied her blade. Hadvar tightened his jaw before heading into the room. The two Stormcloaks standing near the door lifted their weapons as they came into the light, but weren't quick enough to block their swift cuts. The men fell to the ground as their Stormcloak comrades cried in outrage, advancing on the two in a fury. Aneira cast her newly acquired shield to the side, freeing her left hand to bath the oncoming Nords in a spray of fire. The fabric of their armor quickly caught, distracting the first man long enough for Aneira to change her position and send her sword into his chest. His armor, though sturdier than she'd anticipated, gave beneath her weapon, and the man choked as he fell to the floor.

An arrow whipped behind her as she backed away from the next Nord, casting a glance down the stairs to where Hadvar staggered under the assault of two Stormcloaks wielding a war hammer and battleaxe. She spared him no more than a moment once she spied the archer across the room carefully taking aim at her.

She quickly tossed her sword into her left hand, deftly pulling the dagger she'd acquired earlier from its sheath. Sending another wave of flames into her foe, Aneira began the careful process of strafing toward the stairs and Hadvar. As she reached the edge, she allowed the archer another glance before diving under the oncoming Stormcloak's swing. She shoved her dagger firmly into his side, earning a pained grunt as both the arrow and dagger ripped open his body. His greatsword slipped from his hands to the floor beneath the stairs, sliding down them with a loud crash. Aneira left her dagger in his side as the large man followed his sword down the stairs, looking back at the archer to see him staring in shock at his fallen comrade, his own arrow sticking out prominently in the man's neck.

Aneira leapt down the stairs, preparing a burst of flames in her hands before the archer could recover from his shock. Hadvar was still on the defensive and quickly losing ground from the sheer force of the two-handed blows. She sent flames at the Nords from the side, burning the arms of the man closest to her. Like his fallen comrade, he screamed as the fire began to take over the fabric of his armor. Hadvar leapt back in shock, gaping at her for a split second before focusing on their foes once more. The Nord free of burns turned his attention to Aneira and his partner, leaving him open to Hadvar's fatal attack once he recovered.

To Aneira's own shock, the flaming Stormcloak charged her, heedless of the fire that continued to eat at his armor. She leapt to the ground as he brought down his war hammer, landing close enough to feel the vibrations the iron weapon sent through the floor. She was given no time to rise before he brought the hammer down again, this time catching her side as she rolled away. She let out a deep gasp of pain, losing her sword as she desperately tried to heal herself. The Nord was upon her again, raising his hammer over his head. Panicking, Aneira conjured sparks and unleashed the blast directly into his arm. He bellowed and jerked, his grip tightening on the shaft of his hammer as the sparks traveled through his arm. Aneira rolled away, landing in the cold water that ran through the cavern. Clutching her side again, she sent the restoration magic into her ribs before the Stormcloak could recover.

The Nord turned on her again with a cry of rage, moving to close the scant feet between them. She was spared the burden of defending herself again when Hadvar sent his sword through the man's upper chest, ripping it back out so quickly the Stormcloak didn't seem to understand what had happened until his hammer slipped out of his hands.

Rising hastily to her feet, Aneira yelled for Hadvar to move before the archer could release another arrow in their direction. He spun around, keeping his sword aloft as they made for the back stairs again. The archer seemed to be panicking, fumbling with the few arrows he had left as they moved. Aneira reclaimed her shield, positioning it and herself in front of Hadvar as they stalked toward the last man.

An arrow rang against her shield, earning a small grunt from Aneira as they drew closer. It bounced to the ground, and drew Aneira's eyes to the shiny quality of the stones around them. She recognized the slick material of lamp oil, dripping slowly from the single lantern hanging above them.

She cursed her bad luck, clenching her fist at the realization that to use any fire or sparks could very well send them all up in flames, and her skill with frost magic was mediocre at best. Aneira and Hadvar would need to get close enough to the archer to engage in hand to hand combat, and the archer already had another arrow at the ready.

It sailed passed her to the right, and Aneira heard a high gasp of pain. Hadvar's sword clattered to the ground behind her, but Aneira paid him little heed as she charged forward before the archer could draw either another arrow or the sword at his side.

The archer had managed to get another arrow back to his front when Aneira brought her own sword down against his arrow arm. The unprotected flesh gave easily under her swing, and the man cried out and dropped both his bow and arrow before Aneira bashed her shield against his head and neck. The man collapsed to the ground, his eyes staring blankly at the rocky ceiling.

Aneira wheeled around quickly, rushing back to where Hadvar knelt hunched over the floor, his hands frantically cupping the right side of his neck as blood leaked out around his fingers. His face was pressed into the oily ground as his waist bent over his knees. His uniform was already covered in red at the shoulder and the sticky substance had covered most of his hands and arms.

"Move, move!" Aneira ordered hastily, bringing both hands up to cup his throat. She pushed his fingers out of the way as the golden glow encased his neck. The blood began to pool over her fingers as the magicka surged into the open wound. She felt him seize beneath her fingers, his body twitching frantically as the veins and tissue sealed itself back into place. After many painful seconds, Hadvar gave a great sigh as the last of the wound vanished to leave only soft healed skin. Aneira pulled away from his neck carefully, steadfastly ignoring the red coating her fingers to focus on that which now drenched Hadvar's uniform and body. Pulling his body upright, she saw a ghastly amount of blood had been lost from the severed artery, and his pallid complexion did nothing to reassure her that it wasn't as bad as it looked. His torso leaned forward, resting in her arms for a few moments as he swayed on his knees.

"Easy, easy," she muttered, wrapping an arm around his back as she eased him back to sit against the wooden railing to her left. "Give me a moment and I'll grab you a potion." He breathed deeply and nodded lightly in reply, turning his head limply to the side as she moved away. Rushing back into the tunnel, she grabbed the bag and rushed back to the weary soldier, rummaging hurriedly for a stamina potion that she'd taken from the barrel.

"Here," she said, finally pulling the green liquid out of the bag. She uncorked it quickly and brought it to his lips. He drank it slowly, his gulps shallow, but a little color returned to his cheeks as the potion did its work. "You've lost a lot of blood, but we can't rest here. There may be another cave-in." She cast another healing spell over Hadvar, watching as it spread along his limbs without focusing on a particular point. "Your wounds are healed. You're going to be fine." She pushed her right hand through his damp hair, keeping up the gentle restoration glow in case he was suffering from any dizziness or headache. Looking around the dimly lit cave, she saw evidence of plants growing across the walls. "Keep drinking this," she order, forcing his hand to cup the bottle. "I'll be right back."

She darted back over to stairs, heading down to the stream. Aneira quickly thanked Stendarr when she found moss growing through the stones. Using her dagger she quickly cut through the stringy plant, bending to rinse it quickly in the water. Pausing for a moment, she examined the bodies of the Stormcloaks lying around her. Two still had coins purses which she nabbed hurriedly. Neither had any other potions or remedies. She cut through a clean piece of blue fabric in their armor, wrapping handfuls of the damp plant inside them and shoving the handfuls into her sack. After half a moment's consideration, she took their undamaged fur gloves and boots as well, leaving her pack full to bursting.

Moving back to where Hadvar was still sitting, she knelt before him with one clump. "Open your mouth," she commanded, pulling at a single vine. Hadvar opened his eyes slowly, still breathing heavily. He focused on her face briefly before setting his sight on the green mound. "Why? What's that?" He sighed, moving to put his arm around the rail. She supported his back as he rose slowly to his feet, quickly finishing the rest of the potion.

"It's moss. It has restorative properties." She shifted her hand unto her palm was below his chin. "Try to swallow some of it down."

Hadvar's throat clenched as he eyed the slimy mound in her hand. He pursued his lips slightly as she brought her free hand to his cheek. "You've already healed me completely, haven't you? The moss can't do more than you could."

Aneira pulled her hand from his cheek to wag a finger. "The moss will fortify your health, not restore what you've loss. Even I cannot give you more than you naturally have." She brought Hadvar's right hand up, dumping the plant into his hand. "Please. Just chew on it while we move. It won't be pleasant," she added when he grimaced, "but it won't hurt anything. You aren't a magic user, are you?"

Hadvar's brow furrowed before he shook his head. "Not in any sense."

Aneira gave a small smile. "Then you have nothing to worry about. The moss only limits the abilities of mages."

Hadvar frowned and looked thoroughly put out as Aneira turned away, but she heard him put the sticky plant in his mouth. Picking up the discarded bow and what arrows the archer still had, Aneira lowered the small ramp with a lever while Hadvar slowly made his way toward the exit, gagging slightly.

They were no more than a few feet away when the entire cavern shook, and the small bridge collapsed to the ground below. "No going back that way then," Hadvar breathed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and quickening his steps down the small ramp. The ground was no longer cobbled, and the moisture of the cave left it slick and uneven. The bones of other creatures, both humans and not, littered the corners, and she bid Hadvar to wait at the top of an incline when large cobwebs appeared.

Aneira made short work of the spiders, sending them scurrying in a frenzy with her flames. She called for Hadvar to come down as she dipped the tips of her newly acquired arrows in the venom dripping from the creatures' mouths. "What's next," Hadvar muttered, stumbling toward the next tunnel. "Giant snakes?" Aneira gave a breath of laughter, tucking the arrows back into her quiver.

They came upon a dimly little cavern, quietly approaching a cart bearing a lantern. "Is this a smuggler's den?" Aneira whispered, theorizing out loud. The cart contained bottles upon bottles of some type of alcohol. "If it is there must be an exit not far from here-"

"Wait!" Hadvar hissed, grabbing her arm to bring them both to the ground. "There's a bear!" He voiced his unease in a rush, urging her to let them quietly sneak by the creature without engaging it. Aneira chaffed slightly at the thought of leaving the bear behind to harm anyone else that might make it through the tunnels, but acquiesced to his request. Hadvar was still too weak to fight, and stressing him further would do them no good. They moved slowly past the cart and wine bottles, and Aneira earned a glare from Hadvar when she stopped to place two bottles in her pack, along with the coin pouch she found tucked against the side. "Easy does it, we're almost there," Hadvar whispered as they rounded the bend and the bear remained asleep.

He let out a loud breath of relief as they rounded one last corner and saw sunlight glaring through the opening of a cave mouth. "The way out. I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it." Hadvar's words lost a bit of their strength as he stumbled against the slick incline, going to one knee near the opening.

"We're almost out, Hadvar," Aneira assured him softly as she put an arm around his back, whipping her pack in front of them. She grabbed one of the moss wraps, hurriedly dumping it into Hadvar's unresisting hand. "Don't pass out just yet." He nodded, leaning on her for a few moments while he attempted to swallow quickly. After a few seconds his breath came easier and they rose together.

As they finally left the cave Aneira's eyes watered at the change in the light, the afternoon sun reflected brightly in the snow surrounding them. She raised a hand to shield her eyes when suddenly another dark shape moved across the sky.

"Wait," Hadvar whispered sharply, bringing them both to the ground again and pressing her tightly against his side. A few tears escaped her eyes as she look into the bright sky, watching the dragon cut across the blue at a terrifying speed. It vanished beyond a mountain, obscured by the drifting clouds. "Looks like he's gone for good this time. But I don't think we should stick around to see if he comes back."

Aneira made a sound of assent, bringing them both back to a standing position and disconnecting their arms. She rested her palm on his back, cautiously releasing a bit more restoration magic. "We need to get you someplace safe, where you can rest. Is there another city like Helgen close by?"

Hadvar shook his head, looking toward the mountain before them. "Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there. I'm sure he'd help you out."

Aneira pursued her lips, shaking her head. "I'm fine. It's you we need to worry about."

They started down the mountain path at a slow pace. Hadvar's balance was steadily becoming worse, and all her restoration skills couldn't make up for the blood loss. His face seemed even paler in the sunlight, his burgundy hair standing out starkly against his cheeks. The path was uneven and twisting, so unlike the straightforward paths back in Cyrodiil. With only two helpings of the moss left, she was hesitant to give him another so soon.

She earned Hadvar's impatient sighs as she told him to keep walking while she stooped to gather the wild flowers and snowberries that grew around them. "We just escaped a city ravaged by a dragon attack, and you're picking flowers?"

"My studies taught me to never take anything for granted. And these," she paused to hold a small blue flower aloft, "are known to have healing properties if I'm not mistaken."

Hadvar grunted, moving slowly down the mountain by himself. "Yeah, there is a small alchemy table in the inn in Riverwood. But what would you have done if there wasn't?"

Aneira straightened with her handful of flowers, tucking them into the top of the sack. She quickly caught up with him, but he noticed her frown of confusion. "But, surely every developed town has at least one alchemy table?"

Hadvar guffawed loudly for a moment before wincing, cradling his forehead in his large right hand. Before he could say anything, Aneira discreetly brought her right hand behind his head, flooding him with magic again. "I don't know about that. The cities all do, I think. The innkeeper in town is a Breton and was always mixing up potions in her spare time." He looked at her sideways. "Most folk around here wouldn't pay attention to a thing like that unless they truly needed something. I've never met anyone who picked plants assuming she'd quickly be able to brew them up."

Aneira shrugged her shoulders, reaching down to snag another handful of purple blossoms. "Where I grew up the only plants we saw with any regularity were the oak trees." She brought the blooms to her nose, inhaling deeply. "If you wanted ingredients, most of the year you had to go on a pretty long walk."

Hadvar looked at her more fully. "I never asked. Where are you from?"

She twirled the thistle branch between her fingers. "I was born and raised in Bruma."

"What brought you to Skyrim?"

Aneira paused before answering. "Just wanted a change of scenery, I suppose," she said plaintively. Before Hadvar could ask her to elaborate she turned to face him again. "How much further to the village?"  
Hadvar glanced around them, momentarily distracted by the change of subject. "We've got to reach the river and head north from there." He took a deep breath, rubbing his healed neck in distaste. "It'll take longer than usual."

"In that case we might want to take a break when we reach the water. You need to drink and eat something before your limbs grow too heavy."

Hadvar scowled at the river, moving a bit quicker down the sloping stone path. "That's not necessary. Riverwood is just down the road." He took the turn sharply, his footsteps thudding loudly against the ground.

Aneira raised her hands in surrender, though Hadvar could no longer see them. "Alright. But you should choke down another pile of moss soon. And let me know if you become light headed, or your skin begins to feel stiff. I can't be certain how much blood you lost, and your body may attempt to compensate in other ways."

Hadvar turned to his left as she caught up to him again. "Are you a healer or something?"

Aneira shook her head. "I've only mastered apprentice level restoration spells. Such a feat is hardly enough to call myself a healer."

"Still, you seem knowledgeable. The Legion could use more folk like you."

Aneira turned to stare at him, a sour expression on her face.

"The Legion could apparently use a lot of things."

Hadvar winced at her reproachful tone. "I know, today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance."

"This _wasn't_ my introduction to the Legion, Hadvar." Aneira's tight reply gave Hadvar pause, and he watched her warily. "My father was a Legionnaire, and my grandfather before him." She shook her head, bringing her left hand up to run through her hair. "That captain blatantly disregarded Legion protocol and my rights as a prisoner. Is that what the Legion has come to?"

Hadvar looked back down, a guilty flush creeping up his neck at the disappointment and censure in her voice. Aneira didn't elaborate on his own part in her execution order. It was far easier to forgive the lower soldier simply following orders than it was to forgive the domineering woman who'd sneered as she sent Aneira to have her head lopped off. It also didn't hurt that Hadvar had gone out of his way to keep her safe as Helgen burned around them. Still, his easy acquiescence with the Captain's order wasn't reassuring.

"The rebellion's made everything difficult. With the Stormcloaks stirring up trouble in every corner of Skyrim, the Legion's been desperate to stamp out the root of it." He gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye. "You shouldn't have been sent to the block, I know that. But questioning the orders of a superior officer, in front of a city of onlookers and traitors, wasn't going to make the situation better. She wasn't going to change her mind." Aneira frowned, lips pursued as she considered his words. "You saw what she did to that thief from Rorikstead."

Aneira scowled at the stony path. "How did someone like that gain a position of authority? If a soldier tried to pull that in Cyrodiil they would have been the one hauled away to face judgment. Is there no system of review up here?" Aneira asked, disbelief and confusion in her voice.

Hadvar rubbed a hand behind his neck, matching her expression. "There used to be. But it's like I said, the rebellion has thrown everything into chaos. The Empire wants a quick resolution, and the officers are feeling the pressure." He snuck her another glance as they rounded another corner. "I know that doesn't excuse it, or make up for the injustice. But that's how it is." Aneira didn't respond, reaching down to snatch up another handful of flowers. "For what it's worth," Hadvar said slowly, "I'm sorry I didn't speak up for you."

Aneira gave him no reply for a few moments, chewing absently on her lower lip. At last, she relented. "You saved my life, didn't you? It would be poor form to hold a grudge against someone who protected you." Hadvar didn't reply, though his body untensed as relief and gratitude washed through him. "At any rate, you need to eat another piece of moss now." Hadvar looked at her, disgust plain on his face. "Your face is pale, and the skin has begun to tighten and dry out. You need something to take the edge off before you collapse." Hadvar's expression turned to one of resignation, his eyes gazing balefully at her pack as she pulled the plant out.

Aneira passed him the pile, smirking slightly at the look of displeasure on his face. Hadvar looked at the moss with his lip curled, keeping the substance in his palm and holding it near his chest. "I can't carry you to the next town on my back," she joked, giving his side a small nudge with her elbow. Hadvar grunted, tilting his head back and shoving all the moss in his mouth at once.

He choked and groaned at the disgusting taste, galled when Aneira tossed her head back lightly and laughed. The silvery sound traveled around them, carried on the cool mountain wind.


	2. Stopping to Smell the Thistle

"See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow." Hadvar pointed, drawing Aneira's attention from the path to the mountain. She stopped, putting her hands on her hips and gazing at the enormous triangular structures.

"An old Nordic crypt?" She said excitedly, bringing her left hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. The visible parts of the ruin took over a good portion of the mountain, and she marveled at their size.

Hadvar gave a short grunt of affirmation. "When I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares." His distaste leaked into his voice, drawing Aneira's attention from the ruin. "Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night, that kind of thing. I admit, I still don't much like the look of it."

 _Draugr_ , Aneira recalled, the Nordic term for undead corpses. She turned back to the mountain, noting the deep shadows that the Nordic beams cast over the mountain. It certainly created a daunting visual. "Is that… a possibility?" Aneira asked, casting a perturbed glance at Hadvar. "Do the undead regularly escape their tombs here?"

Hadvar gave an uneasy chuckle. "I've heard stories of skeletons appearing on the plains and mountains. Can't say I've ever seen or heard anything sneaking out of Bleak Falls. Still," Hadvar paused, casting another look at the ruin before resuming his trek down the path, "stranger things have happened."

Aneira gave a _humph_ of forced laughter. "Dragons appearing out of nowhere, for instance?"

"Aye." Hadvar said quietly, lapsing into thought.

After they had moved a short way down the path, Aneira noticed another Nordic landmark was waiting to greet them. Fascinated, she quickened past Hadvar, pausing at the steps lest she disrespect a local custom. The stones looked almost like grave markers.

_Nords can be very touchy about their history and traditions. Best you tread carefully, Aneira. Nords don't forgive easily, and they don't forget._

"Ah, these are the guardian stones. Three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape." Hadvar commented from behind her, coming to a rest at the flat landing in the path.

"So, are they meant to be prayer stones?" Aneira asked, walking up the worn steps to a conical marker. She stepped carefully toward the carving to her left. Her eyes widen as she realized it bore a carving of the Thief constellation.

"Basically. They can help someone with different skills." Hadvar answered, and Aneira heard him sit. Turning around, she saw him leaning back against the exposed dirt on the edge of the stone path.

"But, they're the constellations. You're given special talents based on the constellation which appeared in the sky at your birth," Aneira's browed furrowed, "if you believe that sort of thing, that is."

Hadvar shrugged his shoulders, leaning his head back. "I've heard that theory a hundred times from the Imperials I've served with. Up here, we believe more in choosing your fate than having it gifted to you." Aneira turned back to the stones, considering his words. They were not so different from those she'd been told for the first two decades of her life, but still. The idea of choosing a constellation at random seemed an odd notion at best. "Go ahead, see for yourself." Hadvar encouraged, though his tone sounded suspiciously calm. Aneira turned to look at him, an eyebrow quirked in question. Hadvar merely mimicked her expression, though his lips seemed to be hiding a smirk.

Raising her head, she moved away from the Thief stone to examine the other two. Her other options were the Warrior and the Mage. There was little debate in her mind as to which to pick.

"Mage, eh? Well, to each his own. It's not for me to judge."

Aneira scowled at the comment. "And here I was hoping you wouldn't match all the stories I'd heard about Nords in Skyrim."

Hadvar frowned. "And what stories would those be?"

"That you detest all magic and mages are Daedric worshipping, unnatural scum who must resort to trickery and deceit in order to survive," Aneira said matter-of-factly, turning to examine the warrior stone before making a firm decision. She could use help from the warrior, if today was any indication. But that wasn't why she had come to Skyrim.

"It… I wouldn't go that far…" Hadvar trailed off an Aneira raised a brow in his direction again. "Alright, maybe _some_ Nords feel that way." Hadvar scratched the back of his neck. "But I don't have anything against mages. I just prefer strength to spells."

Aneira shrugged artlessly, purposefully striding toward the mage stone once again. "As you say, 'to each his own.'" Aneira frowned at the carving. "Do I touch it, or simply pray?" Hadvar made another small high noise in his throat this time, and Aneira turned to glare at him. His expectant face was both infuriating and amusing. " _What?_ " She asked in exasperation.

"Nothing," Hadvar replied, shaking his head with a small smile. "Just reach out and lay a hand on the carving."

Aneira tilted her head, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she considered his words. Her lips twisted to fight a smile. Clearly he was anticipating something. She focused on the carving. Surely the most the rock could do was give the feeling of warmth felt at a Divine's shrine-

"Stendarr!" Aneira yelled, shoving away from the stone as a brilliant blue light began to glow in the center hole. Much to her disbelief, the light erupted from the tip, blasting into the sky and disappearing beyond her vision. The light hung in the sky in a thin column, and Aneira gaped at it dumbly for a few seconds before realizing Hadvar was having quite the reaction himself.

Turning to glare at him, Aneira was fighting to urge to laugh herself at the mirth he displayed. One hand wrapped around his middle, the other palm down on the ground, Hadvar let loose a stream of loud laughter.

"Oh, you're so amusing, soldier," Aneira drawled, standing up and brushing the dirt off the back of her legs. "You're a right court jester." Hadvar continued to chuckle as Aneira walked away from the stone, casting a wary glance as the light finally began to fade out of the sky. "Didn't I just give away our position?" Hadvar ran a hand down his dirty face, shaking his head slightly as he struggled back to his feet. Aneira inhaled sharply at his pale complexion and the way his body swayed momentarily before he caught the cliff edge. "Gods, hope that was worth it," Aneira grumbled, carefully dragging out the last piece of moss she had in her satchel. "The last thing we need is for you to laugh yourself into a stupor!"

"F-forgive me," Hadvar panted, taking the plant without complaint. He stuffed it into his mouth without hesitation, chewing as quickly as possible. Aneira's eyes widened slightly at the implication.

"You're nearly ready to collapse, aren't you?" Aneira asked quietly, pressing her right palm against his cheek. The skin was cool and clammy, the lines around his eyes and mouth pulling and dry.

"'M fine," Hadvar forced out between chews, moving away from the muddy wall to continue down the path. Aneira looked out over the river, lamenting that the water wasn't close enough to drink from. "The path is mostly flat from here on out, and the town is directly down this road."

Aneira stayed close to his side, holding the last stamina potion at the ready in case he collapsed. His eyes had begun to droop disconcertingly, and his breaths were heavy. She cursed her thoughtlessness. _I shouldn't have wasted time at the stones. He needs more fluids, not breaks in between walking. That won't help now. You_ _ **know**_ _that!_

Two wolves leapt down at them within a few minutes, badly startling them both. Hadvar weakly reached for his sword, only to be preempted by Aneira's lightning. She kept the beasts at bay, sending the wolves howling as they ran in circles trying to avoid her sparks. Thankfully, they both fell before her magic was completely drained.

Exhaling in a tired "o," Aneira turned back to Hadvar. His hand pressed against his side, body hunched over as if in pain.

"Dammit, wait here. We can't wait any longer." Without another word, she shoved the stamina potion into his hands, uncorking it for him. Moving of the trail, she dug into her pack as she looked for the empty health potion bottle. Holding it carefully, she leaned over the rocks until the bottle began to fill with the river water.

Hadvar didn't object when she took away the stamina bottle and replaced it with the water. He gulped it down in a matter of seconds, sighing heavily before giving her the bottle back.

"Can you walk?" Aneira questioned, securing an arm behind his back.

"I'll manage. Let's go, before the potion wears off."

Aneira made a quick sound of affirmation, shouldering a good portion of his weight as they moved. Thankfully, the village came into view not long after, and Hadvar rallied himself to make it through the gate.

"There, on your left. That's my uncle and his forge."

"Got it," Aneira muttered, angling them until they were heading toward the blonde Nord pounding away with a hammer.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon!"

Aneira started, glancing around Hadvar in the direction of the shout.

"What? What is it now, Mother?" A young man approached a hobbled old woman, his tone bored.

"It was big as the mountain and black as night! It flew right over the barrow!"

Aneira shuffled quickly past the house, eyeing Hadvar's reaction. The soldier's gaze was focused on the smithy, his mouth a grim line.

"Dragons is it now…" The young man's voice grew more difficult to hear as the hammer of the blacksmith drowned out other sound. As they approached the railing near the forge, the blonde Nord looked up.

"Uncle Alvor." Hadvar greeted him, straightening slightly from Aneira's support. The blacksmith smiled in surprise.

"Hadvar, what are you doing here? Are you on leave from-" The elder Nord trailed off, eyes roving across Hadvar's ash coated body. "Shor's bones! What happened to you boy?" His eyes drifted over to Aneira. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Shh," Hadvar said quickly, angling his body quickly to look down the stone road. "Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I'm fine." His weak voice belied his words. "But we should go inside to talk."

Aneira felt him applied more pressure to her shoulders, guiding them away toward the worn wooden steps of the house.

"What's going on?" Alvor met them at the stairs, reaching out to take Hadvar's weight off Aneira. "And who's this?"

"She's a friend. Aneira saved my life, in fact." Hadvar gave her right shoulder a squeeze as he allowed his uncle to steady him. She hid a pleased smile as she inclined her head in greeting. "Come on, I'll explain everything, but we need to go inside."

"Okay, okay. Come inside, then." Alvor hoisted Hadvar's right arm across his broad shoulders, clumsily opening the door to his home. "Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it." Both Hadvar and Aneira's stomach gave embarrassing rumbles at the prospect of food. Alvor _hmphed_ in amusement. "Sigrid! We have company!" He bellowed, letting Aneira enter quickly before kicking the wooden door shut with a loud _bang!_

A woman with hair a similar color to Hadvar's came rushing up from a lower level, wiping her hands on a dish rag. "Hadvar! We've been so worried about you!" She rushed to his side, helping Alvor ease the weary soldier into a chair. Aneira moved toward the table, scanning its contents for what she needed. Frowning at the absence of anything accept mead and wine, she looked to the blacksmith.

"Hadvar needs water, sir, badly. He was heavily wounded and lost a great deal of blood." Alvor looked at her in surprise before glancing at his nephew.

"Wounded? Where?" He turned to the corner of the room, and Aneira saw a blonde little girl lingering in the corner at a small bed. "Dorthe, take the bucket to the river. Bring back as much water as you can."

"Sure, Papa," she replied, heading out the door in a flash. The blacksmith spoke to his wife, quickly requesting that she prepare bowls of whatever was cooking in the pot over the fireplace. Aneira moved to sit at Hadvar's side, pulling off the filthy helmet with a sigh. Alvor sat himself across from them both.

"Now, then, boy. What's the big mystery? What are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

Aneira gave a huff of laughter, trailing a hand down her face. She felt the black soot cling to her skin. "Only nearly, sir." Alvor frowned at her, thrown by the remark.

Hadvar bent his head forward, gratefully accepting a red healing potion that Alvor slid him. "I don't know where to start. You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard." Alvor nodded. "We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked... by a dragon."

At first, Alvor just stared at Hadvar blankly. He sent a quick glance at Aneira before laughing in disbelief. "A dragon? That's... ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you boy?" Aneira stiffened a bit in offense, not entirely surprised at the reaction, but irritated all the same.  
"Husband," Sigrid chided as she brought over the two bowls, "let him tell his story."

Aneira and Hadvar both gave their thanks before he continued. "Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive." Alvor swore under his breath. "I doubt I'd have made it out myself if not for my friend here." Hadvar reached out to rest his hand on Aneira's arm for a moment, his fingers still too clammy for her liking. Sigrid smiled at her for a moment as she brought them both bread. "I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what's happened. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help however I can." Alvor promised, standing up to reach over the table and clap Aneira on the shoulder. "We owe you much if you helped bring my nephew home."

Aneira blinked in surprise at the heartfelt assurance. Hadvar continued to eat quietly beside her, gratefully accepting the water the child quickly provided him. Choosing to focus on her immediate priority, she turned to him. "If you begin to feel sickly, stop eating. Your body may not be able to handle the heavy food." She pointed to the hard bread his aunt had provided. "And bread would be a bad idea. It'll block your stomach." Hadvar sighed sufferingly, sliding the bread out of reach. Aneira accepted her own glass of water, sipping in carefully. "You should ease off the potions now that we've stopped moving. Letting your body replenish itself is the best thing to do now."

Hadvar sent her a side glance, eyeing her right hand as it glowed around her forehead. "This coming from the woman healing her aches every few minutes."

Aneira grinned slightly, bringing her free hand to Hadvar's right arm. "My aches do not come from blood loss. There _is_ a difference." Still, she allowed his sword arm to be cloaked in gold, wrapping around his sore muscles.

"Magic, eh?" Came Alvor's voice from near the door. He hung back there with his daughter, carefully handing her the bucket to be refilled. The water she'd brought now filled several empty bottles. He eyes her glowing hands a bit distastefully. "You a healer with the legion?"

"Ah, no," Aneira said, carefully withdrawing her hand from Hadvar. He frowned in her direction briefly. She looked at him, lips folding as she considered what to tell him.

"Aneira was captured with the Stormcloaks." Hadvar said plainly, taking another drink of water. Alvor's eyes bugged, turning to stare at her. "She isn't one of them, Uncle." Hadvar paused, contemplating. "At least, I don't think she is." He turned to her. "You said you were from Bruma."

"Aye," she said quietly, carefully pulling apart a piece of bread. "My father, mother, and grandfather were all legionnaires, in their time." She said softly, but pointedly, looking at Alvor through her lashes. The man still seemed uncertain.

"Why were you captured with the Stormcloaks? What were you doing with them?"

Aneira flushed in embarrassment as Hadvar faced her as well, expectation on his own face. "I wasn't with them. I was crossing the border." Her mouth twisted a little. "I'd only just made it through the Pale Pass."

Hadvar quirked his eyebrow at her. "Aneira, were you sneaking into Skyrim?"

Aneira flushed again. "Technically." He raised his eyebrows patiently. She grimaced. "Because border security has become unbearable with the rebellion. The Imperials have all but closed traffic into Skyrim until the war is over." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I'd made arrangements to come up through the Pale Pass, but then the soldiers guarding it wouldn't let me through."

"So you decided to jump the border?" Hadvar's voice had a laughing quality. "At the Pale Pass? Where did you even go?"

Aneira took a large bite of bread before answering. "I didn't go anywhere. I just waited until it was the middle of the night and then climbed one of the guard towers. My pack wasn't that heavy, so I walked along the mountain side until I reached the bottom and jumped."

Alvor's face was astonished while Hadvar began to laugh into his fist. "What about the guards?" The smith demanded. "How did you just… _climb_ a guard tower with no problem?"

Aneira bit her lip, looking at Hadvar's grin. It reassured her slightly. "The guard in the tower wasn't the one who'd sent me away earlier in the day. I may have… offered to leave him three bottles of brandy if he let me use his tower to reach the mountain side." Alvor and Hadvar stared at her. She smirked slightly. "He wished me good luck."

Hadvar groaned, tipping his head back and scratching the right side of his face. "Great. We're in the midst of a rebellion, and border security is letting people jump the gates for as little as a drink." He turned to Aneira again, exasperation and amusement on his face. "You're certainly resourceful. D'unno why I'm surprised after what I've seen you do today."

"It's not funny, Hadvar," his uncle admonished. "They could be letting in Stormcloak sympathizers, and that'll only make this worse." Alvor turned his hard stare to her. "So how did you wind up in the company of Stormcloaks?

"The sky had barely stared to brighten when I heard the sound of fighting. I tried to avoid it, but someone spotted me and charged." Aneira shook her head, feeling where a bump had nearly receded. "I couldn't see anything. They hit me with a sword hilt or something. I woke up briefly on the ground, bound alongside the others. The next time happened when I was in the cart on the way to Helgen."

Hadvar nodded thoughtfully, drinking another large swallow of water. "General Tullius had set up an ambush not far from a Stormcloak camp in Falkreath," he explained to his uncle, leaning back in the chair. "Thanks to some intelligence from the spies, we knew where Ulfric would be moving." A bit of pride leaked into his voice. "They never stood a chance."

Aneira snorted. "Neither did I."

Hadvar had the grace to blush. "Aye. Sorry about that."

"Shor's bones," Alvor breathed. "You had Ulfric himself?"

"That we did," Hadvar muttered, tilting his cup along the table. "No idea if we have him now, though. All but two of the prisoners escaped the block when the dragon appeared." He nodded his head toward Aneira. "We took care of some, but never came across Ulfric."

"Ralof disappeared as well," Aneira added thoughtfully. Hadvar scowled at the name. "He was with Ulfric when I was separated from them all."

"Gods, you had Ralof, too?" Alvor leaned back against the wall, rubbing both hands harshly across his face.

"He may come this way, Uncle, if he escaped." Hadvar tipped back another mouthful of water. "His sister is sure to shelter him."

"Hmm," Alvor hummed in agreement. He sat back at the table, ripping off his own piece of bread before looking at Aneira again. "We got off topic. Who are you, exactly?"

Aneira shrugged noncommittally. "Just an Imperial citizen who made her way to Skyrim. I have business here."

Alvor didn't buy her vague answer as Hadvar did. "And what business is that, girl?" While his tone wasn't overly accusatory, she bristled at the name.

"I'm going to the College of Winterhold to become a Master mage." Aneira replied primly, bringing her bowl up to drink the remainder of her broth. She fixed her eyes on the clay bowl, her peripheral vision catching the perturbed reaction of the smith.

"I see," he said lowly, tugging uncomfortably on his thick leather apron. He eyed her outfit curiously. "Where'd you get the uniform?"

"I told her to take it, Uncle," Hadvar piped up, leaning over the table toward Alvor. "She had nothing but some tattered rags left. The soldiers who'd captured her took everything she had." Hadvar bent his head a little, glancing at her under his lashes. "They didn't bother to make sure she was with the Stormcloaks first."

Aneira's lip curved slightly in the corner, and she nudged his shoulder with her own. "You've already made up for it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Clarification: There is some confusion as to how exactly the Dragonborn was captured. The Elder Scrolls wiki theorizes that they were captured at the Pale Pass, given Ralof's comment that the Dragonborn was trying to cross the border and walked into an Imperial ambush. The Pale Pass is along the road which leads to Helgen from the south, so that makes sense. However, Ralof tells his family that he and Ulfric were ambushed near Darkwater Crossing. That location is quite far from the border, from Helgen, and from the path the cart is taking. Frankly, I can't make sense of it.
> 
> P.S. I strongly encourage any readers to point out any grammatical errors I may have made. Just PM me. I know that, despite my proofreading, mistakes slip through the cracks. Thank you!


	3. Wade in the Water

"Like I said, I'm glad to help in any way I can. Help yourself to whatever you need, within reason. But I need your help. We need your help." The smith's face grew very serious, his eyes fierce. "The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless. We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can." He paused, eyeing her purposefully. "It would be best if it came from a witness of the attack. Hadvar, by your own words, is too weak to carry such a message. But you, as far as I can tell, are not injured. If you'll go to Whiterun for me, I'll be in your debt."

Aneira's eyes were blank, surprise forcing her to take a moment before replying. "It's… not that I'm unwilling to do such a thing, but would a Jarl even listen to me?" She spread her hands. "I'm a stranger. I've no documents to confirm who I am anymore. I'm wearing a borrowed soldier's uniform." She folded her lips in for a moment, furrowing her brow. "Wouldn't they be more likely to arrest me than listen to me?"

Alvor gaped at her for a moment before letting out a loud bark of laughter. "Can't say I know how the courts work in Cyrodiil, but I think you'll find the Jarl's court is less likely to pay attention to your background than to what you have to say. Just mention the dragon before anything else to everyone you meet. They'll probably think you're crazy, but they'll let you speak."

Aneira frowned, none too pleased with the prospect. If anyone had run up to her yesterday, claiming a dragon had attacked their village, she'd have smiled and calmly taken them to the nearest priest. Or guard.

"Husband, she's far too exhausted to set out for Whiterun today." The red haired woman chided, coming back up the stairs. "The sun is already starting to sink, and no one has a horse here that she can borrow." Sigrid brought the used bucket to Aneira, now filled with bathing items. "And the poor thing needs a wash!" Aneira felt a mortified blush fill her cheeks. Did she truly look so bad? "Here," she continued, "take these to the river. The water should still be warm enough for a bath. You can clean yourself up." She accepted the woman's cotton dress gratefully, taking the bucket and scrubbing brush from the housewife's hands. She rose slowly from the chair, her muscles protesting the movement. When she winced slightly the woman gave her a pitying look.

"Yeah, well, first thing in the morning then. That dragon isn't going to sit around." Alvor moved to hold the door open for Aneira. "We're lucky it didn't head here next."

Aneira nodded, slipping through the door after sparing Hadvar a glance. He was sitting on a bed in the corner, hands moving over his face as exhaustion set in. His young cousin fidgeted at his side, chattering happily and questioning him about the dragon. As the door closed behind her Aneira heard Sigrid chastise the young girl to let her cousin alone.

She inhaled the clean mountain air deeply as she stepped outside, glancing down the road away from the smithy. An inn was the last building in the small village, and she noticed a stone bridge a ways down the road. A man hung over the railing of the inn, a bottle of mead in his hands. Aneira turned and walked back along the cobbled path from which she and Hadvar had come, hoping it was just as deserted now as it had been an hour ago.

She hurried past the old woman who sat on her porch. The last thing she wanted now was someone to demand who she was and why she was covered in soot. Aneira wondered about the woman's insistence that she'd seen a dragon. Hadvar hadn't wanted anyone else to hear what he was saying to the smith. It was natural to assume that the people would panic when the word got out. _But_ , she thought worriedly, _that dragon flew over the mountain. It could be ransacking another city even now_. She quickened her pace down the path, fingers gripping the bucket until her knuckles turned white. It was tempting to run back to Alvor and request directions to Whiterun so she could set out immediately, but the desire was sharply tempered by the aches in her legs and arms that no amount of healing could undo. On top of that, Sigrid was right. The day was not young and the sun was hours past its noon high. The water of the river was not yet dark, but it wouldn't be long now.

 _And_ , she concluded, _I'm worried about Hadvar. Do they know to let his body recover on its own now? I should ask if there's a healer in town. Hadvar doesn't seem likely to listen to me if he wants to return to duty as soon as possible._

Aneira walked a good distance up the road, past the still fresh bodies of the wolves and coming to a rest behind the trees and bushes that lined the rapid river. Stripping off her borrowed boot and braces she winced when the treated leather clung to her skin through the sweat, blood, and ashes. It was fortunate for her that the armor had withstood the trek through Helgen's caves and would get her to Whiterun. Her underthings were almost useless, the strings frayed and stretched from their rough handling. Yet another expense she had incurred in the last two days.

Bare in the sun, she jumped quickly into the stream, shuddering at the change in temperature before sinking up to her neck. Sigrid had been correct and the water was relatively warm for a mountain stream, but the swift current kept the surface from gaining any real heat. Still, it was preferable to using icy water in an old tub. Aneira freed her hair from the leather strips that bound it and ran her fingers through the strands, feeling the dirt slide away in the quickly moving stream. Reaching for the bucket she pulled out the scrubbing brush, lightly moving it across her skin as the black stripes washed away to leave her skin its ordinary pale shade.

Many minutes later and thoroughly cleaner, Aneira allowed herself to float on her back, kicking easily to combat the current. The thrumming water alleviated the sores in her limbs and brought her heart to a steady beat. She stared at the late afternoon sky, watching the sun drift lower toward evening. Her left hand drifted to her neck out of habit, seeking out the chain that usually adorned it. She met only smooth skin and fought back bitter tears.

_Less than a day in this land and I've already lost everything I brought with me._

_Nearly everything is replaceable_ , whispered a reasonable voice in her head.

 _Father's Amulet of Julianos is_ _ **not**_.

She slapped the water miserably, wishing he was near to ask for help. How does one build a life in a foreign land when all their legitimately acquired worldly possessions are gone?

But then, if her father were still able to discuss it with her, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

Aneira was startled from her melancholy by the sound of a large splash a short way down the river. She moved swiftly against the small ledge she'd jumped from, sinking into the water up to her neck. Listening intently, she heard the water part as something large waded through it. Cautiously, Aneira peered around the dirt wall.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she watched Hadvar wearily move through the water, rubbing his right hand against his neck as he tipped his head back in a slow stretch. She blinked stupidly at his form for a moment before darting back behind the obstruction, wincing at the noise she made in the water. A blush crept up her face as she waited breathlessly, praying Hadvar was too preoccupied with his bathing to hear the noise she'd made.

"Is someone there?"

 _Drat_.

Aneira briefly debated keeping silent and making an attempt to slip away from him up the river while still shielded by the land. That option was quickly shutdown when she considered how easily he'd already heard her. Blood loss or not, it seemed his training had been effective. "It's just me," She replied tremulously. Putting her hands against the land and keeping her knees against her chest she poked her head back around the corner. "I was startled when you appeared." Aneira finished lamely.

Hadvar's eyes grew wide when they met hers and he took an unconscious step backwards, sinking deeper into the water until it reached his chest when he hunched his back. "Ah-" he started, looking away from her to gaze nervously at the mountainside. "I-ah, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were bath- I didn't know you were nearby." Hadvar forced out, shuffling deeper into the water. "I always come here to wash when I'm in Riverwood. Didn't think I'd run into someone who came here first."

Aneira laughed lightly, shifting away from the wall and deeper into the water as well. "Well, I thought the ledge would provide me some cover." She cocked her head at him, fighting the still furious blush coating her face. "Not to nag, but you shouldn't go too deep. Your body isn't ready to fight a current yet."

Hadvar's lips quirked to the side. "I'm not about to collapse, you know."

Aneira tipped her head back into the water, praying to whichever god was listening for patience. "If you strain yourself in the next few days before your body has had enough nourishment, you might."

Hadvar ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, leaning forward to dip his auburn locks in the water. "You can't seriously expect me to sit around doing nothing for days. I'm a soldier," he stated firmly, whipping his head back in a quick motion. "I'll-"

Aneira watched him stumble backwards in concern and a small, conceited touch of smugness. _Told you_ , she thought wryly as she kicked her legs out behind her, swimming swiftly to cover the distance between them as Hadvar landed on his backside in the water, submerged up to his ears. His head tipped backward and would have sunk into the stream had Aneira not reached him in time, cupping his neck in her right hand and forcing his torso to straighten again. Hadvar sputtered for a few moments on the small bit of water that he'd inhaled, eyes squeezing shut as his head jerked. After brushing the hair out of his eyes Aneira snaked her left arm around his front, grasping his right shoulder to hold him steady. The Nord's limbs hung like weights in the water, pulling him down with the current.

Shifting their bodies, Aneira wrapped her arm around his back and heaved them closer to the shore, stopping when the water reached her thighs. She sat herself behind Hadvar on a layer of rock, wrapping both arms around his chest to keep his back upright and help his breathing return to normal. The water continued to lap at their sides, coating her stomach and keeping their bodies buoyant. Tucking her legs underneath her and sitting on her calves, she released a light healing spell against his ribs. Hadvar gave a grateful sigh, slowly straightening until his legs lay flat on the floor of the river. He raised his right hand to wipe the water from his face, leaning back against her wearily.

Aneira belatedly remembered their nakedness, and flushed deeply as her breasts were pressed against his back. Her restoration training, limited though it may have been, had overridden everything else when she saw him collapse. Now their proximity was at the forefront of her mind, and her entire body grew tense. The soldier leaned his head back against her left shoulder, tilting his face toward her neck. Her breath halted in her throat for several moments, and she prayed he could not feel her rapid heartbeat. Aneira held her fingers and forearm away from his skin slightly, unwilling to have her charge notice her unsteady hands. Hadvar gave no indication that he noticed her sudden discomfort, preoccupied as he was with regaining his equilibrium.

"Alright. Maybe you're onto something," he breathed shakily against her skin, dropping his hand with a heavy thud that splashed drops of water against her cheek. Hadvar groaned softly at his own movement, his throat muscles clenching. She snorted, pressing the back of her right hand against his right cheek. The skin was clammy again, though she couldn't be certain if it was from the blood loss or cool water at this point. Shoving her awkwardness back, she hooked her arms under his shoulders and rose, dragging him back to the grassy shore. He protested lightly as his lower body dragged along the ground, but she kept his head straight against her collarbone and heaved until only his feet hung in the water. Wounded or not, she wasn't quite willing to let him see her bare.

Setting him down as gently as possible, she put her face beside his from behind. "I'm going to retrieve your aunt's belongings from the ledge. I'll be right back and help-help you wash." Turning his head in the direction of the village with her hand, she quickly laid him down before dashing away out of his sight. Praying fervently to Stendarr that no one else was coming down the road while she was so vulnerable, she made it behind the bushes and tree where her borrowed cotton gown still lay in the sun. Running her hands down the length of her limbs, Aneira tried to dry herself as best she could before redressing. After a few futile attempts she realized it was pointless to bother keeping the clothes dry, for she would have to enter the river again to help Hadvar clean himself.

 _Dammit_ , she groused. _Why didn't the smith or his wife go with him?_

Hastily securing the worn undergarments as best she could, Aneira pulled the tan dress over her damp body and returned to Hadvar with the bucket and scrubbing cloth. She was relieved to see him the same position, his left hand laying limping over his heart as he breathed steadily. She'd been half certain she'd find him trying to wade back into the current the moment she left him alone. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly on his face and nowhere else, Aneira knelt at the soldier's shoulder.

"If I move you back into the water, can you keep yourself sitting along the slope?" Aneira rested a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention from the path.

"Aye," Hadvar murmured, curving his spine to sit forward and allow her to cradle his shoulders. He pressed his palms heavily into the wet soil, sliding his lower half along the ground as Aneira lifted him as best she could into the current. Settling him on the layer of worn rocks once more, she darted back to the shore to retrieve the bucket, cloth, and brush. Glancing behind her as she shuffled awkwardly through the water around Sigrid's long dress, Aneira was relieved to see Hadvar holding himself upright against the river. The water reached the area just above his stomach, and she feared what would happen if he collapsed to the side.

When she returned to him, Hadvar has already begun spreading the water across his chest, scrubbing his calloused hands against his neck. Aneira handed him the brush and filled the bucket with water, shocking him with the sudden downpour across his soiled hair.

"Gods," he almost shouted, shaking his head and whipping his hair to send the drops of water flying as he wiped the water away from his mouth. "Give a man some warning, woman."

"Don't be childish," Aneira chided lightly, weaving her fingers through the auburn strands to weed out the knots. "Your hair was already wet."

"Aye, but that doesn't mean it wasn't cold," Hadvar complained grouchily, drawing his right leg up to reach it with the brush. "And I thought the point was to prevent me from drowning."

"Gods, you're a whiner." Aneira noted blandly. "How long have you been in the Legion? Don't they whip that out of you quickly?"

Hadvar turned his head in her direction, a cross between a pout and a scowl on his handsome face. "You have a terrible bedside manner."

Aneira snorted. "Good thing I'm not a healer then, isn't it?"

Hadvar gave a slight shrug and grinned. "You're a damn good healer in my book. If it weren't for you I'd have died in that cave. Or earlier, if those burns hadn't been healed." Aneira's lips quirked as she fought to keep the pleased smile off her face. "If only you were a bit gentler. Ooh!" He flinched as Aneira gave his hair a slight tug, forcing his neck to bend backwards. "You are only making my point," he groused.

"So much for Nords being the tough race," Aneira muttered as she carefully used the scrap of cloth to wipe his face. "I was plenty careful with you when the situation called for it."

"Hmm," Hadvar grunted as she cleaned his jawline of the layer of oil that still clung to his skin from when he collapsed from the arrow. "I'm plenty tough, outsider. As you saw before that archer caught a lucky shot." Hadvar cocked an eye open at her as he began to lean back against her left leg.

"Hmm. Cocky as well, I see." Aneira smiled, tilting his head to the side to clean his neck. Unfortunately, when he leaned back he gave her a perfect view down his pale body, and she was momentarily given an eyeful of his lower half beneath the darkening water.

Jerking her eyes back to his neck, she grew warm again as she scrubbed harder than necessary against the cords of his neck, earning another protest from the soldier. Mumbling an apology, Aneira refused to allow her gaze to drift from whatever part of Hadvar she was currently washing. She paid special attention to the spot on his neck where the arrow had ripped open his skin, forcing her mind to recall the severity of his injury to cool the hot blood suffusing her cheeks. She zeroed in on the dark stains that lingered on his skin and in his hair until nothing but pink skin was left.

Regrettably for her, _or not_ , a small part of her whispered silkily, the Nord's body was almost entirely hard muscle that she could not ignore if she tried. His shoulders were broad, and his back muscles well defined. They flexed and rippled beneath her cloth as she sank deeper into the water to work her way down his spine. The situation was not made better when Hadvar shuddered lightly in the water as her gown billowed around them and brushed against the small of his back.

"Sorry. I know it's getting cold," Aneira piped up lamely, fully aware that the water now felt icy against her heated skin. She berated herself fiercely in her mind, aghast at her quick reaction to the red head. _He's wounded and weak, for gods' sake. Have you no control?_

"Aye," Hadvar replied softly, curving his back to bend forward and rub his hands down his legs. Aneira took the opportunity to rinse the cloth and twist it in her hands, nails biting into the material until her fingers felt numb. "Do ya think you can get me back to the shore? I left my clothes on a rock."

"Of course," Aneira answered quickly, tucking her loose hair behind her ears before wrapping her arms under his shoulders again and heaving him to his knees and then to his feet. They moved slowly back to the shore together with their arms around each other's shoulders, hampered both by Aneira's dress twisting around her legs and Hadvar's lethargic steps. "You should not have tried to do this alone," Aneira muttered. "I shudder to think what would have happened if no one had been here to help you after you collapsed." She nudged his left shoulder with her own. "Don't be in such a hurry to kill yourself after I went through all that trouble to keep you alive."

"Yes, ma'am," Hadvar grumbled, bumping her hip with his in retaliation and earning another blush from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! And critics!


	4. Pillow Talk

"I'm sorry we can't offer you anything more comfortable," Sigrid apologized for the third time, laying out Hadvar's sleep roll near the outside of the bar. "We haven't had guests in so long, and those we did have were able to stay at the inn."

Aneira rubbed the back of her neck, craning it until the soreness eased. "I'm sorry for the trouble we're putting you to. It's just safer if Hadvar stays near me tonight in case he needs my help. I've already brewed all the potions I could, so the inn isn't useful to us anymore."

"No, no, I understand," Sigrid replied, turning to move behind the bar and produce several bottles of water. "We can just leave these on the ground with you both so he can drink if he needs to. You're fine to stay beside him? I know it becomes cold down here, even during the summer months."

"It'll be fine," Aneira reassured her as Hadvar began his slow descent down the stairs. "He shouldn't need any healing at this point, but it won't hurt to have me near incase his body grows pained and he needs relief."

"Wish you'd all stop treating me like a toddler," Hadvar muttered, moving behind the bar to retrieve two more bottles of water.

"And I wish you'd take your health a bit more seriously," Aneira retorted, spreading out her own sleeping roll next to his own. "But since you're a stubborn Legion soldier, I will do it for you."

Hadvar shook his head, covering a wide yawn with the back of his hand. "Fine by me. Takes the worry of my shoulders, doesn't it?" Aneira only rolled her eyes and removed her borrowed house slippers, shivering lightly in the cold of the basement. She would have preferred that Hadvar rest somewhere warmer, but the upstairs was still too warm from the day's fire and she didn't want him to sweat out all the water he'd taken in during the day. At least in the cool basement, under the bed roll, his body would be kept at a more moderate temperature. Not to mention that they _couldn't_ sleep upstairs as there was little room on the ground and it was hardly time for ordinary folk to be in bed yet at only an hour past sunset.

"Well, you should both be settled for the night. Alvor will be down in the morning to check on you, Hadvar." Sigrid turned to Aneira. "He begs that you set out at dawn for Whiterun. A dragon could arrive here at any minute."

"I will," Aneira promised again, slipping into her bedroll as Hadvar did the same with his. The woman nodded nervously, wringing her hands together before quickly bidding them both goodnight and returning up the stairs.

Aneira turned stiffly on the hard floor, laying on her right side to face Hadvar. He lay on his back, turning his face toward her and leaving his left hand on his chest.

"You'll let me know if you're in pain, won't you?" Aneira asked earnestly. "I don't like the idea of you suffering in silence for the night."

Hadvar smiled sleepily. "You'll be the first to know, sweet priestess." Aneira felt herself beginning to blush again, and firmly ignored it as she rested her head on her pillow. "So you're heading out first thing in the morning." Aneira kept her eyes on his face as he turned to stare at the ceiling. It hadn't been a question, and she waited for him to continue. "Where are you heading after Whiterun?"

Aneira blinked, her mind growing too heavy with sleep to consider what her path would be after tomorrow. "I don't know," she answered quietly. "I still want to go to Winterhold, but now I've little money or possessions to fund the trip." She paused for a moment. "Is there a market near here, or shop that would buy the excess supplies I'm carrying?"

"Aye, the village trader is the building just across from us, but Lucien won't be open by the time you leave tomorrow. You could probably sell those extra ingredients and wine to the inn. But you know, most people up here make long journeys on foot. Something of the Nord way, when not taking something to sell between the cities." She saw him thin his lips lightly. "What do you plan to study at Winterhold? Restoration?"

"No," she laughed shortly. " _Everything_ ," Aneira breathed, her initial excitement at her journey returning. "My father showed me so many books on the different schools of magic. Each is fascinating." Hadvar turned to look at her again, a curious look on his face. "I'll likely _start_ with restoration. That would be the most useful and applicable to the public, and I could likely make some coin offering healing sessions. I'm already decent with destruction magic, so that'll come second. After that, everything else."

Hadvar took a moment before speaking quietly again. "What about your charges? Those won't disappear just because we escaped, you know."

"Hmm," Aneira hummed with a frown, rolling onto her back to mimic his position. "I don't suppose explaining the situation as I did with your uncle will solve everything? It certainly wouldn't in Cyrodiil. I'd at least need to go to a hearing."

"Right," Hadvar forced out past another yawn. "But, if you were willing, you could come to Solitude with me," he offered softly, still gazing upwards. Aneira turned to face him again, studying his profile as best she could in the dim light of a single candle. "General Tullius will be there, if he survived. I'm sure he did," he noted softly, "and he'd listen to me if I vouched for you."

"You would go to such trouble for me?" Aneira inquired softly, leaning up on her elbow to stare at him.

"You saved my life," Hadvar replied simply, "more than once. And it's no trouble. I have to report back to whoever commands the Legion in Solitude, now that the forces at Helgen have scattered." He turned in her direction slightly. "You could come with me, and we'll have your name officially cleared." He pulled the blanket of the bed roll further up his body. "It would be a long walk from Riverwood to Solitude, but it would be nice to make it with company."

She said nothing for a few moments, only the soft sound of their breathing disrupting the silence as she contemplated what he offered. On its face, it was an opportunity she'd be a fool to pass up; the chance to travel across Skyrim in the company and security of a Legion soldier, with the benefit of any lingering criminal charges being cleared by the end. Yet Aneira thought she heard more in the soldier's words than simply an offer to have her good name unsullied.

"I will… sleep on it, Hadvar. My head is too full from today to make any decisions."

"Of course," he replied quickly, shifting in his bedroll uncomfortably. She knew the stones had to feel even worse on his weary body than they did on hers. "This has been one hell of a day," he added weakly, a hand reaching up to scratch his face. He winced lightly at the movement. She reached across the gap between them and gave him a light doze of healing, watching as his body untensed in relaxation. "You're a life-saver," he said again, letting his face fall to his left to face her fully. "Who taught you how to heal if you weren't formally trained?"

"My father," Aneira said, heart aching again as the pain leaked slightly into her voice. "He taught me a great deal."

'You mentioned that he and your mother and grandfather were legionnaires," Hadvar went on. "Where are they now?"

"Dead," she answered solemnly, ceasing her spell and leaving her hand outside the bedroll near his arm. "My grandfather was already in his seventies when I was born, and my mother passed when I was seventeen. Father died several months ago."

She saw Hadvar visibly flinch at the dullness in her voice, and wished she could keep a stronger lid on it. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, moving his hand off his chest to take her fingers in his own. He squeezed them lightly before speaking again. "I know how much that hurts."

"Have you lost your parents?" Aneira queried softly back, returning the pressure.

"When I was just starting to become a man," he answered heavily, letting his thumb glide over the back of her hand.

Aneira bit her lip, waiting to see if he would say more. When he didn't, she swallowed past her tears and tried to speak again. "My father was a battlemage, and his mother had taught him all she knew of magic. Grandfather was an archer, and my mother was a warrior." She turned her eyes back to his face. "Were your parents in the legion as well?"

"Aye," he said proudly, still keeping his hold on her fingers. "Both warriors, and both served in the Great War when I was just a babe and came back alive. Ma had me in Hearthfire of 173, taking her away from the fighting until she was recovered. I stayed with Uncle Alvor until she retired and came back to raise me."

"How old were you by then?" Aneira wondered aloud, unfamiliar with the idea of watching one's parents leave while they were still alive. Her own had been stationed in Bruma for the majority of her life and had left for brief assignments elsewhere only several times, and never together. And to be conceived and born in war; Hadvar must've been destined for the Legion before he took his first breath.

"Oh, around six. Reconstruction took them all over for the first few years after the war. Eventually, Ma got tired of always leaving me with Uncle Alvor after every leave, and left when she was still a praefect to work as a guard in Riverwood." She watched him swallow tightly. "My father was sent to the Reach when I was 12, and was killed by the Forsworn his third day there."

"How terrible," Aneira whispered, though she as completely unaware as to who or what a Forsworn was. Probably not the time to ask.

"Ma was escorting an Imperial noble three years later, and died trying to defend him from an assassination attempt." He gave a sigh. "The man lost an eye, but kept his life. My mother was struck down by several arrows when she threw herself over his body." He paused again. "At least that's what I was told."

"I'm so sorry," was all Aneira could say in response. Her own parents' deaths, untimely as they seemed to her, were not nearly so violent or sudden. Her grandfather had died at the ripe age of 76, peacefully and in his sleep with the family nearby. "My mother… she had a malady of the breast. It took her very quickly. Grandfather passed in his sleep when I was seven. In truth I don't remember him well, and not before his age began to weary him. My grandmother was more than ten years younger than him, so she lived until I was nearly 21. My father-" Hadvar tightened his grip slightly as her throat became tight. She felt her nails beginning to press against his skin, but he didn't pull away. "He always said his heart never recovered from the war. Too many lightning spells to the chest. It finally gave out while he was training with a dummy in our cabin." The tears leaked down onto the sleep roll. "I made it downstairs just in time to say goodbye."

"Ah, gods," Hadvar heaved himself over onto his left side, earning a soft sound of alarm from Aneira as he rolled himself to lean over her, throwing his freed right arm carelessly across her torso. "I'm sorry. That's… awful. Just awful." He paused. "What was his name?"

"Ignacio. Or Iggy, as my grandmother loved to call him. He was half-Imperial, half-Breton." Aneira sniffed and wiped her left hand down her cheek, setting it to rest near his elbow. "Such lovely conversation between two people who've just met," she jested lamely.

"We charged through a realm of Oblivion together," Hadvar pointed out after another long pause. "We're past formalities and pleasantries."

"That's probably true," Aneira agreed quietly, scoffing past the lump in her throat. She glanced over at him, tempted to tell him to lay on his back again. Instead she pushed her left hand against his right arm, forcing him backward until their positions were reversed and her arm lay across his stomach. He breathed out heavily as his body realigned with the floor, eyes drifting shut again. "You should be sleeping."

"I'll sleep alright," he muttered, leaving his face angled toward her. "Tell me something pleasant, healer."

She huffed, feeling the tears begin to fade. They always came so quickly to her lately, yet fled just as fast once she could put her father's death out of her mind. "Hmm," she pondered a bit loudly, feeling Hadvar's chest rumble slightly in laughter. "I could tell you the story of how my Grandfather whisked my Grandmother away from her home against her father's wishes."

"Oh," Hadvar sighed. "That sounds good."

Aneira giggled. "It's not nearly as exciting as I make it sound. My grandfather Antonius was in the Legion at the time, and 30. He was sent to Wayrest with some politician that was meeting with the king there. He met my grandmother Adelaide the first day, selling her potions at the docks to the sailors." Aneira paused, her grandmother's wizened voice echoing in her head. "He apparently thought she was the 'loveliest thing he'd seen in his travels.' She was 17 at the time, and had never had a serious suitor before. I was told he swept her off her feet, visiting her at the docks every day and taking her for turns around the city at night. He was there for several weeks, and eventually her father found out and was furious that his only daughter was consorting with 'lowly Legion cannon fodder.'"

"Tsk," Hadvar scoffed. "He sounds like a real charmer. Who was he that Legion soldiers were dirt but his daughter was peddling potions at the docks?"

"A son of a Knight of the Rose, though he apparently did nothing to earn respect himself. Grandmother was selling potions and offering healing sessions or tutoring to the wealthy families of the city. By the end of his stay, Grandfather had decided he loved her and offered to buy her passage back to Cyrodiil on the ship if she would be his wife. Grandmother told me many times that all she had ever wanted was to climb aboard a ship in the harbor and leave her boring life behind, so she didn't take much convincing."

"Hmm," Hadvar hummed drowsily. "I'm sensing a family trait, there."

Aneira snorted. "Her father refused to let her leave and tried to imprison her in the house. After trying to free her, Grandfather went to the local authorities about it and the whole situation escalated until whoever that politician was and the head of the Knights of the Rose became involved. At first they took my great-grandfather's side and tried to convince Grandfather to let it go. Apparently they were led to believe that Grandma Ada was only 15 and still under her father's guardianship. Grandfather roundly told them off just in time for her to walk in the door, introduce herself, give her proper age, tell everyone listening that she was leaving with her fiancé, and that her father was a 'useless old beggar who'd never bothered to work a day in his life and she was done being his breadwinner." Aneira sighed wistfully. "Grandma Ada was a force to be reckoned with when she was crossed. Still, she left her father with copies of her alchemical recipes before leaving so he could try to support himself."

"And did he?" Hadvar yawned widely.

"No idea. Grandma and he didn't keep in touch after that due to Grandfather's constant rotations in the Legion. She followed wherever he went, and when father was born quickly after their marriage she dragged him along for the adventure." As she finished speaking, Aneira felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in her gut. She hadn't meant to imply anything negative about Hadvar's own parents with her story, and now prayed he hadn't taken it that way.

"Always wondered what it would have been like to follow Ma and Pa around with the troops. But, now that I'm in the L-l-egion," Hadvar cracked another yawn, "I don't think I'd have liked it much as a child. With both parents serving I expect I would've gotten very lonely. I'm lucky that Uncle Alvor was here for me."

"I don't know how I'd have taken it," Aneira responded honestly. "I grew up in one house my entire life, with four adults caring and teaching me at one point or another. If my parents hadn't been so fortunate with their placement, I've no idea what would have happened." Again, she regretted her somewhat thoughtless words. It seemed that everything lucky that had happened to her parents had been missed by Hadvar's. "Mama was a Nord, so they sent her to Bruma where she could relate well with the locals. Father was sent with her mainly because Bruma had few magic users, and he was an incredible healer." She turned to him, seeing him on the verge of sleep. "Goodnight, solider. Rest easy."

"Mhmm," he mumbled, lifting his right hand with tremendous effort to cover her left on his chest.

Aneira smiled sleepily and turned her face back into the pillow, exhaling contently. Sleep took her quickly, and they stayed close throughout the warm night.

* * *

"Just follow this path all the way down the mountain, and you'll reach the plains. After that just keep left past the farms and you'll reach the city gate."

"Thank you," Aneira said sincerely, hoisting her pack further onto her shoulders. She was rather over encumbered to be making such a brief journey, but Whiterun had more merchants to buy her goods. "Now, please," she turned back to face the red head, wishing he'd let his uncle give her directions yet secretly pleased that he'd insisted on accompanying her to the bridge, "go back to sleep. If you rest enough you'll be back to full health in no time."

"I'll hold you to that," Hadvar answered as he looked down at her free right hand. Reaching out quickly, he grasped her fingers again. "You never gave me an answer."

Aneira felt the blush return to her cheeks. "You're right," she said softly, reaching over with her left hand to lightly press their palms together. "But I've decided." She looked up to face him again, his expression shadowed by the dawn light behind him. "I'll come back here, once I'm done in Whiterun. After that," she smiled and gave his hand a squeeze, "you'll have to show me the best way to reach Solitude, soldier."

Hadvar's face split into a brilliant grin, and for a moment she stared at his lips. "I can do that, healer," he replied, inhaling deeply before tugging on her hands. Her upper body tipped forward from the force, and he caught her lips for a long second with his own. "Well then," he said in a pleased voice still husky from sleep, "hurry back!"

Aneira laughed brightly as she pulled away, giving him a look somewhere between disapproval and adoration. How odd it was to feel such things at her age. "Yes, sir," she said primly as she turned away, heading across the rest of the bridge and toward the paths Hadvar had indicated, fully intending to follow his order this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love feedback!


	5. Problem Solver

She breathed a sigh of relief as the wooden structures came into view, the dying Last Seed sunshine sparkling off the water to her left and making the worn stones of the bridge glow subtly. The day had grown increasing warm as the hours dragged on, making her uniform cling to the sweat on her skin uncomfortably. She ought to look into acquiring some different clothes before returning to Whiterun, as Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth had kindly and not so kindly pointed out that anyone wearing an Imperial officer's uniform outside of Legion service was impersonating a soldier. She supposed she was lucky they hadn't demanded she find new armor before sending her trudging back to Riverwood. Both Greymane and Warmaiden's had been very expensive.

Aneira jogged quickly over the bridge, spying a young girl and boy playing in the road with a dog. The girl looked up as she approached, and her face split into a smile.

"Aneira, you're back already!" Dorthe pranced up to her as she moved past the stone fence, catching her left hand between both of her smaller ones. "What did you see in Whiterun? Hadvar said you were going to the castle to talk to the Jarl! Did they really let you inside?"

"They did," Aneira laughed, allowing the child to swing her arm enthusiastically. "And the Jarl himself spoke to me." She leaned down toward the blonde's face, whispering conspiratorially, "Jarl Balgruuf has given me a quest to find lost treasure and bring it back to his court wizard." Her shoulders shook as Dorthe's eyes widen so far she worried they would pop.

" _Really?_ You get to go hunt for treasure now? Where is it, where is it?" Dorthe's grip on her hand tightened as they kept walking, the little blonde boy and his dog trailing along behind them.

Aneira pointed at the looming mountain to their right. "He said it's buried in Bleak Falls Barrow."

Dorthe gasped dramatically. "But, but, Hadvar said we shouldn't go near Bleak Falls! Bandits live in there!"

"Yeah," chimed in the boy for the first time. "Bandits and giant frostbite spiders and _draugr_ ," he declared in a low voice, placing his hands on Dorthe's shoulders from behind and making her jump.

"Frodnar!" She wailed, keeping her hold on Aneira's hand as she whirled to her right side, curling a little against her hip. Aneira shook her head, patting her right hand on Dorthe's head.

"Well, whatever's up there won't stop me." She gave Dorthe a pretend solemn look. "It's not every day you're given a mission directly from the Jarl and his wizard. I could not refuse," she added a bit seriously, "and I cannot fail."

Dorthe stared at her with a look Aneira could not describe, having never seen it on a child's face before. She let her face lean against Aneira's side, pulling her toward the forge where they could hear Alvor pounding away on the anvil. Dorthe pulled away from her side, skipping happily to the table against the railing. "Look, Papa," she cried happily, "Aneira came back!"

The smith looked up from his task, wiping the hand across his forehead covered in sweat from the oppressive heat of the forge. "Aye, so she has," he responded impassively, turning back to his work and finishing with a final five swipes of the hammer. "You've already spoken to the Jarl?" Alvor asked without preamble, turning to take a cloth from Dorthe and wipe his hands and face.

"Yes, sir," Aneira answered calmly, taking off her helmet and setting it on her hip as the fire got to her. She couldn't imagine how he worked it during the day. Even now, as the sun sunk lower, the heat was stifling. "He's promised to send a detachment to Riverwood at once. They probably aren't far behind me."

"Mhm. Good. You have my thanks." He eyed her as he pulled his black apron over his head. "So," he began casually, "Hadvar tells me you plan to go to Solitude with him."

Aneira nodded, noting the tone the smith used. "He offered to clear my name with the Legion when he reports back." Aneira ran her hand through her hair, tugging at the leather strips that barely held it all back. "We'll set out once I've finished with the Jarl."

Alvor frowned at that. "Finished what?"

Aneira nodded her head toward the mountain. "He asked me to help his wizard with some research into the dragons, and the man told me to-"

"You're back," came a breathless voice from behind Dorthe, causing the three of them to jump slightly and turn toward the river. Hadvar walked quickly past the forge, rushing toward the road as Aneira went back down the steps to meet him. He grinned broadly at her as he reached the stairs, taking her right hand in his left and pulling her toward the door to the smith's house. She heard Alvor give a short sound of protest as Hadvar pulled her inside, seeing Sigrid look up in surprise from her cooking pot.

"Oh," the housewife exclaimed, "you're back already! I was certain you'd stay up there for the night." Sigrid raised her back, grimacing briefly in discomfort as she leaned back. "Would you be a dear and hand me the bowls on the table?" Sigrid pointed, and Aneira obliged, handing her one after the other and setting the table as Sigrid poured. "The folks around here have been very uneasy ever since you left," she went on, tapping her ladle against the pot and dashing over to the cabinet for the bottles of wine. "Alvor had to tell everyone what had happened, and Sven's mother has been beside herself, insisting that she saw the dragon fly over the village yesterday. No one really believes her, but after what you and Hadvar said-"

"She likely did see it, Aunt Sigrid," Hadvar interrupted as he sat down to his helping of dinner. "The thing did fly past and shot straight over Bleak Falls. I'm amazed everyone else missed it."

Sigrid shook her head in bewilderment, moving to the door just in time for Dorthe to run skipping in with Alvor trailing behind her. The little girl sprang into the chair beside her cousin as the smith moved to his own seat.

"So, what's this Dorthe tells me about you looking for treasure in Bleak Falls Barrow?" Alvor nearly demanded, pulling his bottle of ale toward him while his eyes fixed on Aneira as she sat down across from Hadvar. "It's a burial crypt, not some cave for pillaging."

"You're going into Bleak Falls?" Hadvar asked incredulously, his spoon pausing in midair as he stared at her. Sigrid stared between the three of them nervously as Dorthe happily swallowed her soup.

Aneira leaned back from Hadvar's stare and Alvor's glare, disliking the feeling of constantly being put on the defensive where the smith was concerned. "I'm not _pillaging_ anything. The Jarl asked me to help his court wizard with research into dragons because I was the only witness from Helgen they'd heard from. The wizard tasked me with retrieving some ancient dragonstone that he thinks is hidden somewhere in Bleak Falls." She reached down into the leather pack at her side. "I have an official order of retrieval signed by Farengar, if you'd like to see it." She pulled out the crisp piece of paper, setting it on the table near Alvor and beginning to eat. She watched the smith peruse the contents quickly before grunting and tossing it back to the table, allowing Hadvar to read it as well. "I'll head up there early tomorrow morning. And rest assured, I don't intend to burden you any further. I'll stay in the inn tonight."

"Oh," Sigrid exclaimed, hurriedly sitting beside Aneira and placing fresh bread on the table. "You're no burden at all," she went on quickly, turning her gaze to her husband. "She's absolutely welcome to stay the night again. We wouldn't dream of making her spend what little money she has left at the inn." She passed the salt down the table. "That would be very poor hospitality and ingratitude for saving Hadvar and then reporting to the Jarl for us, wouldn't it, husband?"

Alvor grimaced at his wife's less than subtle demand, and he nodded stiffly. "Of course you're welcome to stay again. We owe you a debt."

Hadvar set her letter down near her hand, returning to his own food as she folded it and placed it back inside her satchel. "I appreciate your generosity. It wouldn't hurt to save my money, and I'd still like to keep an eye on Hadvar. You do seem much better," Aneira noted approvingly, looking at the soldier. "Did you drink plenty of water today?"

"I brought him fresh bottles four times!" Dorthe piped up proudly, earning a pleased smile from Aneira.

"Excellent. You're an ideal assistant, Dorthe," Aneira declared, making the child giggle happily. She turned back to Hadvar, who swallowed and kept his eyes on the table. "It shouldn't take the entire day to make my way through the barrow, and then we can set out for Solitude after I deliver the stone to Farengar. That is, unless the Jarl has something more to ask of me," she quipped, taking a bite of the hard bread. "I'll come back to get you as soon as I know I'm done with them."

Hadvar said nothing for a moment, sipping his soup before nodded slightly. "Sounds like a plan. But Bleak Falls?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the outside. "Lucien Valerius at the Trader said some gold was stolen from him the other day, and his sister insists the thieves are hiding up in the barrow. Who knows how many thugs are holed up in there, not to mention an old watchtower that's been abandoned for decades? And don't forget the draugr," he added seriously, shaking his shoulders in disgust. "You probably shouldn't head up there alone. I could go with you tomorrow, and we can-"

"No, Hadvar," Aneira cut him off, unsurprised at his sigh of resignation. "You aren't nearly healed enough to be traipsing through a crypt, let alone taking on large numbers of bandits and undead."

"But there's no way you're going to survive in there alone," Hadvar insisted seriously, tipping his bowl back and finishing his soup with a quick gulp. "The Jarl never would've agreed to send one person. He must know that Bleak Falls is crawling with criminals." Hadvar groused, ripping apart the bread Dorthe handed to him. "Farengar just doesn't know a thing about this area or the risks."

"Hadvar, no doubt you would've been a great help before your injury, but now I'd waste time worrying about you when I should be focusing," Aneira said with quiet regret, displeased with the embarrassed flush that now coated Hadvar's neck. She took a bite of bread to gather her thoughts, aware of the stares of Hadvar's family. "Before it gets too late I'm going sell a few things to the Trader, and I'll ask them about the thieves. If there's a serious problem, I won't go up alone. Maybe one of the Companions would be willing to go with me. I could split the reward from the Jarl with them."

"You met the Companions?" Sigrid interjected a little desperately, no doubt seeing Hadvar's expression and wishing to change the topic.

"Oh yes," Aneira began to gush, just as enthusiastic to steer the conversation away from her impending mission. "It was the most incredible thing! A giant was destroying a farm near Whiterun, and I used the bow I picked up in Helgen to land a few shots in its back. This beast of a man Farkas landed a killing blow a few seconds later when it toppled over with a _huge_ crash," she emphasized with remembered awe, "and the three of them came over to speak to me." She felt a proud satisfaction at the rapt attention she commanded from the table now. Even Alvor was staring without his usual suspicion. "Aela was their archer, and said that I handled myself well and invited me to accompany them back into Whiterun."

"Wow, you killed a _giant?_ " Dorthe gasped, her soup and bread forgotten. "Frodnar said giants are taller than the inn, and swing whole trees around like a club!"

"Oh, it didn't have a whole _tree_ in its hand," Aneira laughed, enjoying the girl's glee. "But it was certainly tall. I wasn't even sure what I was seeing at first, until I saw it take a swing with this wooden club at Farkas. It used it like a warhammer."

"But did you go and visit Jorrvaskr?" Alvor demanded, his own excitement present. "I haven't stopped to visit the Skyforge in years. Old Greymane is still working it, right?"

"Yes, I went down to see the hall after speaking with the Jarl and Farengar. Aela sent me down to speak with the Harbinger to ask about joining, and he agreed to give me the chance."

"You-you _joined_ the Companions?" Hadvar sputtered, shock evident on his face. "You were only gone for half a day!"

"Kodlak said he saw a strength of spirit in me," Aneira said demurely, still unsure what the old man had meant. "He asked this high ranking member Vilkas to spar with me in the yard, and everyone came out to watch. After they saw me hold my own, they said I was a new recruit. I'm not an official Companion by any means," she explained hurriedly, noting Hadvar's crestfallen expression. "I'm still going to Solitude with you once I'm done here. It just seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. There's nothing wrong with picking up some extra training and money on jobs for them, right?"

Hadvar seemed to shake himself, realizing his own behavior and smiling sheepishly at her. "No, no of course not. The Companions have been around for centuries, and are an honorable group. Congratulations, joining them is something to be proud of."

"Thank you," Aneira smiled back, relieved as the conversation turned to other topics, such as Dorthe's latest accomplishment at the forge and Sigrid's insistence that she needed more help in her garden.

* * *

"So, what did Lucan say?" Hadvar asked as Aneira trudged slowly down the stairs, stretching her arms high over her head. "He tell you about his missing claw?"

"Gods yes he did. The man is incensed. This claw of his must be worth a small fortune. His sister is just as furious. She was asking to go with me up the mountain." Aneira shook her head and took a large drink of water from the bottle at the bar. "Her brother refused to allow it, but you'll be pleased," she added in a light tone, "because I found someone to go with me."

"Who?" Hadvar asked skeptically, leaning back on his bedroll. "Lucan? I didn't think the man had ever handled a sword in his life."

"No, Faendal," she responded happily, pulling back her own covering. Hadvar made a sound of curiosity, and she went on. "When I went to mix a few flowers at the inn, Sven was there complaining about Faendal visiting Camilla while Sven had to work. That barman said there was some sort of love triangle between them all. When I spoke to Sven about it he got the bizarre idea that I was on his side and wrote this awful letter for me to give Camilla and say was from Faendal."

"H-he what?" Hadvar asked through a disbelieving laugh, laying his head on the ground. "What did it say?"

"Some nonsense about Camilla needing to know her place as an inferior human and Faendal's superior standing in the Aldmeri Dominion. It made Faendal sound like a pompous ass."

"So what did you do?" Hadvar asked with a lazy smile, rolling onto his side to face her more easily.

"I took the letter and went back to the store. Faendal and Camilla were having dinner and I told both of them what Sven had tried to pull. Camilla was completely astonished, and Faendal offered to accompany me to retrieve Lucan's claw and the dragonstone as thanks for my help." She rolled over to mirror his position, tucking her hands beneath her cheek. "I have a feeling the love triangle just lost a member."

"Unreal," Hadvar chuckled again. "That was still going on when I came to visit last spring. You're a regular problem solver," he teased, leaning his face closer to hers. "Healer, fetcher," Aneira pouted, "Companion, and match-maker. What'll you do next?"

"Escort my overworking friend to Solitude in one piece, hopefully," she retorted, allowing him to take her left hand out from under her cheek. "I can already tell you're going to be troublesome."

"Nah," Hadvar sighed, curling their fingers together, "I promise I learned my lesson. The close call in the river straightened me out."

"Good," Aneira giggled lightly, "because if this is what your country has to offer me after only two days, I shudder to think of what insanity we'll encounter on the way to Solitude!"

Hadvar looked for moment as if he would respond, opening his mouth before closing it with a snap. "Honestly, I have no response to that. You make a good point."

She laughed sweetly, but the small, ever present worrisome part of her mind said the world had been too bizarre lately to be taken lightly. She let Hadvar kiss her lightly goodnight before separating their hands, wishing him the same before settling deeper into her bedding. Hadvar found sleep easily, his deep, even breaths comforting, but Aneira lingered in the waking world for a bit longer. Everything seemed quiet, almost eerily so, as if the world was holding its breath for something momentous to happen. Aneira tried to brush the discomfort away, scoffing at her own foolishness. What could be more momentous than dragons returning?

Unnerved, she reached out again to lay her fingers against Hadvar's warm ones, pressing her lips together as she prayed nothing went wrong on her mission tomorrow, and that she and the brave soldier could start their journey without further complications.


	6. Worth

"Finally," Aneira panted, heading down the jagged rocks and nearly collapsing from relief at the sight of the worn stone crossing.

"You said it," Faendal voiced from behind her, trudging wearily along the rocks until they reached the bridge.

"You should use that mill of yours to build another bridge," she complained, hoisting the ridiculously packed satchel back up her shoulder for what had to be the hundredth time. "That was awful."

"Yeah, I'm sure Gerdur will get right on that, what with the war going on." Faendal snorted back, groaning in relief when they finally made it across the bridge and into the main section of town. "Oh, blessed gods. I thought I'd never get back again."

"I thought you wanted an adventure, son of Valenwood," Aneira huffed in amusement, feeling a resurgence of energy now that their arduous trek was at an end. The hours inside that stuffy, dust and cobwebbed covered tomb had dragged on for so long she'd been amazed that the sun still hung in the sky when they finally got out, and only in its afternoon slope at that.

"Well, that was before I realized I was just going to be a glorified pack horse," the elf rejoined, dropping his bag near the door of the trader and bending over with his hands on his knees. 'Gods, my spine feels like it's permanently shifted."

"Here," Aneira offered, giving him a healing spell until Faendal exhaled heavily and stood straight again. "And you should be happy, Faendal," Aneira proclaimed cheerfully, setting down her own pack and beginning to rummage through it. "You've returned to town a hero that eliminated the terrible bandit problem, a sack of treasure to take into Whiterun on your back, and can even return your lady love's prized possession to her in one piece!" Aneira pulled out the beautifully carved golden claw, tossing it unceremoniously to the surprised wood elf. "Better keep it away from me for a while, because I'll be tempted to throw it in the river if I have to look at it again today."

"But, Aneira, _you_ should be the one to return it," Faendal protested, cradling the ornament carefully with both hands. "You took down far more of those ruffians than I did, and you're the one who wanted to get it back for them in the first place-"

Faendal's command of Aneira's attention was abruptly cut off by the presence of a large, red-haired Nord who swept her into his arms from behind, twirling her easily away from the Trader's wall and back into the street. She gave a short whoop of delight as she rested her palms on the thick arms that embraced her, laughing gaily as she turned in Hadvar's grip to face him.

"You made it out okay," Hadvar said a little breathlessly, winding his arms around her shoulders and holding her tightly, his left cheek against hers. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? More than half the day is gone!"

"Believe me, I know!" Aneira chirped, wrapping both arms around his neck and swaying with him slightly in the road. "You weren't kidding about that barrow! Any night you spent awake and afraid was completely justified!" She pulled away to look at his face, thrilled to see his relieved smile. "Draugr creeping down from the mountain wasn't too far off! Lucky for you they only seem to care about the barrow, and even then only when trespassers like Faendal and I are poking about." She leaned forward to press a kiss against his compliant lips. "I don't think you'll have to fear them any longer, though. Faendal and I took care of the lot."

" _All_ of them?" Hadvar asked incredulously, his smile at her kiss morphing into an incredulous stare. She nodded a little manically, giving him a choked laugh as Faendal voiced his confirmation. "But, the tomb is thousands of years old! There must've been hundreds-"

"Not even close," she sighed, stepping away from him to pick up the sack she'd dropped. "Most of the remains were just that. Skeletons so old they weren't even whole any more. But those draugr still had skin and muscle clinging to their bones." She looked to Faendal for back up. "How does that even make sense? I've never even heard of necromancy so advanced that it can preserve bodies for centuries."

"Don't look at me, traveler," Faendal raised his hands in denial. "I'm just a worker at the mill."

"Oh, aye, just a worker at the mill," Aneira teased him, pushing open the door to the Trader and leading the men inside. "Well, Valeriuses," she continued, turning to stare at the surprised Imperials, "this mill worker took down iron armored bandits, a wolf, frostbite spiders, skeevers, and dozens of draugr to rescue your golden claw for you," Aneira announced proudly, setting her pack on the floor of the store as Faendal grew darker in embarrassment, already fielding their thanks and praise with denials and referrals to Aneira's own prowess.

Hadvar looked at her from the doorframe, eyes following her easy smiles and bright eyes as she began to share her adventure with them all. He noticed her special assurances to Camilla of the Bosmer's bravery in the face of archers, plucking them down from the Barrow's walls with ease. Aneira's face grew terribly satisfied as she glanced over at Hadvar, lips thinned to fight a triumphant grin when Camilla soundly kissed both of Faendal's cheeks and threw her arms around the surprised, but thoroughly pleased mer's neck. The Legionnaire smiled at her softly, his own surprise fanning the admiration he already felt for the remarkable woman.

* * *

"You're a little match-maker, aren't you?" He cajoled, nudging her with his elbow as they headed across the bridge and up the path toward the Barrow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she stated matter of factly, reaching into the cart she was pushing to happily toss the snowberries she'd brought in a leather bag into her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sure," Hadvar grinned, reaching over to snatch the bag away from her hands. "So you're endless praise of Faendal's feats in the barrow _wasn't_ a blatant effort to raise him higher in Camilla's esteem."

"Certainly not," Aneira retorted, lunging back for her berries only for Hadvar to raise them over his head. "I merely," she grunted, trying to keep her grip on the cart while tugging on his arm, "wanted to ensure the Valeriuses understood the lengths he went to to help them."

"Aye, and completely downplayed your own," Hadvar reminded her, tossing the bag from his right hand into his left. "I've seen you in battle, lassie," he cajoled, scooping down to wrap his arm around her waist and hold her still from her sweets at his side. "There's no chance you didn't take down as many or more targets than that log herder."

"Hmph," Aneira scowled, though he could not miss the merriment in her eyes. "What does it matter then? Faendal's success should be even more impressive, since it's clearly been some time since he's seen combat."

"If he ever saw any at all," Hadvar added, still holding the berries high above his head.

"Oh, fine, keep them," Aneira snorted, leaning further over the cart and shoving away from him. Hadvar laughed in the back of his throat, leaning over her with a childish face until she turned and acquiesced, giving him a firm kiss on the mouth. He leaned away from her with a sweet smile, lowering her snack and having a few of his own while she marched up with hill with a frustrated exclamation. "If you're done teasing me, I want to make it up to that tower and back to the village before nightfall at the very least. If I can get this back to Whiterun with the Dragonstone, I'll have enough money to feel at least somewhat secure. Alvor and Lucan were generous to buy some of that loot from me, but it's still not enough."

"This still seems like a lot of effort just to recover some armor from those bandits." Hadvar called calmly, taking the path at a leisurely pace. "What are you hoping to find?"

"There's a chest at the top, and one of the women guarding the entrance had a full body of leather armor," she answered excitedly. "If I can salvage some of that, it'll save me hundreds of gold that I'd have to waste buying it new." She turned toward him, awkwardly shoving the cart through the inches of snow. "Did I tell you about the scolding I got from that Dunmer housecarl? Apparently I'm a walking lawbreaker until I change out of this uniform."

"Yeah, Irileth is a piece of work. She tries to haul people into the dungeon for just about breathing near the Jarl." Hadvar tied shut her pouch of snowberries, tossing it lightly into the cart. "I suppose we do need to get you some more clothes. That armor needs repairs by now anyways."

"True," Aneira sniffed ruefully, noting the damage and rips in her once well-kept uniform as she turned back around. "All the more reason to hurry and take what I can from the tower. If I wasn't so exhausted, I would drag Faendal back through the barrow to get what scraps we left with the bandits. They all had fur and hide armor that I'm sure your uncle could use for repairs if nothing else."

"Ye gods, woman," Hadvar complained, catching up to her and taking the left handle of the cart between his hands, ignoring her protests that he shouldn't exert himself. "You'll drive yourself mad thinking of everything up there that could be worth something. You can't possibly take all of it back to the village." He rubbed his shoulder against hers as they finally cleared the incline.

"You forget I'm destitute, soldier," Aneira grumbled, shooing his hands away lightly. "I'm only worth every piece of loot I can bring back to Lucan, your Uncle, or Whiterun."

"That's not true at all," Hadvar replied, slightly perturbed at her insinuation despite the black and white truth of it. Until she found some stable employment with the Companions or a Temple, or developed a reputation with her skills, his border-jumper was unmistakably poor. Which was why he hoped she'd be amiable to his suggestion once they reached Solitude.

"Well, either way I dislike waste," she said simply, and Hadvar decided not to press the issue at the moment.

He helped her secure the cart against the tree, grimacing at the butchered Imperial man who lay in the red snow with three arrows in his chest. They spoke but a little during the unpleasant and wholly loathsome task of removing the dead's armor from their bodies. Hadvar's lip curled in disgust, though he refused Aneira's awkward assurances that she could do it alone. They finally got one woman separated from her uniform, for which Hadvar had to commend Aneira for leaving it in such good condition. The single arrow that had taken the woman down had been lodged just above the Nord's left breast, and the hole and blood left behind from the blow could fairly easily be remedied.

"I know a little about smithing," Aneira explained to him as they scoured the tower for more supplies, including relieving the large, bloodied Orc of his iron protection and battleaxe. "My village smith would give me a few coins a day to help him around the forge when I was younger, and I picked up a few things." She heaved the iron chest piece back onto the now very loaded cart. "I can do basic repair jobs with leather, and sharpening blades or reattaching bow leather isn't difficult. Fortunately for _me_ ," she grunted deeply, shoving all the different armor into a more manageable pile, "I can just take pieces of this man's leather bracers and boots to cover that hole."

"That's an idea," Hadvar agreed, calling down from the stairs Aneira had left him on. She turned back into the tower, sighing to see him sitting boredly on the stone steps with his chin in his right palm. "Certainly cheaper and quicker than buying leather from Uncle Alvor. And don't give me a look if you won't let me help," he scolded as she walked around him, catching her left hand in his. "I'm much stronger than yesterday," Hadvar assured her, bringing her knuckles to his lips. "This isn't going to hurt me." Aneira hunched her shoulders, indecision written plainly on her face as the soldier stood to up and grinned lopsidedly at her. "I can carry some of your treasure for you, sweet priestess." Aneira's concerned look morphed as her lips quirked, fighting the smile that always wanted to bloom at his choice of nickname. She no longer bothered to correct him on that count, seeing how pleased he was to call her such.

He went past her up the sloped ramp, stepping carefully over the Orc's body and moving to the barrels as Aneira continued upward toward that enormous chest. Newly armed with lockpicks from the bandits, she was determined to find what was inside.

"Is there fresh food in those barrels?" Aneira called, setting herself in front of the metal lock.

"Aye, some cabbages and apples so far."

"Good, we'll take that back as well then. Those sacks in the rubble should work."

"The inn will no doubt give you some good coin for fresh produce."

"Oh, I meant to give it to your aunt," Aneira replied, carefully turning the lockpick. "She and your uncle have been so generous, and I wanted to-Damn!"

"You alright?" Hadvar's voice was more confused than concerned, and she shifted in embarrassment from cursing so loudly.

"Just broke the pick, nothing else."

She heard him snort with laughter from close by, but lost the opportunity to retort when the lock turned readily and clicked. She gave a triumphant cry and hurriedly heaved the top open, coming to her knees to peer inside.

"That sounded good," he said from the bottom of the landing, grinning to see her wide-eyed smile as she turned to him.

"Better than good, Hadvar!" Aneira practically squealed, holding out her left hand to him and beckoning him up the steps. He laughed when he reached her, letting her tug him down to her side at the chest. Reaching in, she pulled up the largest skin pouch, weighing it carefully in both hands. "There must be at least twenty coins in here! Those other bags look about the same," she enthused happily, pulling up the remaining two. "This alone is worth the walk back up here."

She spun to face him again, throwing her arms around his neck. He chuckled at her overreaction, smiling good-naturedly and putting his hands against her back. "When we go to Solitude, supper is on me," she promised teasingly, leaning forward to catch his mouth before he could respond. Hadvar seemed perfectly content to follow her lead, sighing against her lips and returning the affection. She pulled her arms off his broad shoulders, cupping his cheeks with her fingers and soaking in the warmth of his skin. She moved her mouth across his slowly, each coaxing the other until they were both flushed and tightly embraced, his arms encircling her waist and back so closely she could scarcely breathe.

"Sweet priestess," he breathed against the apple of her cheek, "my sweet healer."

"My brave soldier," she answered in kind before pressing her cheek against his, leaving her arms around his back. They remained so for a few moments before Aneira felt her back begin to ache from the strange angle, and she regretfully pulled away from him.

She kept his hands in hers as they rose slowly to their feet, and it was only when she finally tore her gaze away from him that she noticed how high they were, and the view the broken old tower provided them.

"Gods, Hadvar," she breathed, keeping his right hand in her left as she moved closer to the edge. "This is incredible." She turned to him again, and he too gazed out at the vast mountain before them and the glittering river that flowed passed. Gentle snow drifts sailed from the peak, shimmering in the setting sun as they fell, while a single hawk cut across their line of sight. She stared at her Legionnaire for a few moments too long and drew his eyes back to her. She vision grew misty at the soft look in his eyes, though she convinced herself it was merely the brisk breeze winding around their bodies.

"Is Skyrim worth all the trouble now, do you think?" Hadvar whispered, leaning his forehead against hers and bringing his free hand to her cheek. She swallowed a little thickly, closing her eyes to listen to the gentle sound of his breath and the rush of the currents around them.

"It must be," she answered, turning her face upward and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her hair came free from the movement of his hand and swirled around them as their lips danced together in the wind.


	7. Wash it All Away

Hadvar turned the small wooden block around in his fingers, inching the sharp knife along the edge and letting the debris drift easily into the river. The currents quickly took the flakes of wood away from him and down to the bridge, disappearing from view as he worked slowly over the carving.

He'd hoped to have Aneira back in Riverwood by now, given her early start that morning and the late afternoon hour. Faendal had accompanied her again at her instance that Hadvar save his energy for their journey and the wood elf had eagerly gone along to sell his newly acquired loot.

Her delayed return was only giving him and his uncle ample time to ponder and discuss the strange tale she'd given them at dinner the evening before. Faendal had joined the Valeriuses for a meal that evening, and hadn't confirmed the bizarre event until a few minutes before Aneira had left.

No one in his family could make sense of what Aneira had been talking about. She had said a strange wall at the end of the crypt had glowed brightly and surround her with a strange light that reached out to her like wisps of a rainbow, blocking out everything but the carving and filling her ears with loud, indecipherable chanting. Alvor had bluntly asked her how hard the draugr had knocked her over the head and Sigrid had hushed him hastily. After Aneira explained the large, heavily armored draugr's emergence from a fortified coffin after the light had faded, Alvor had brushed it off as an ancient Nordic booby trap, meant to blind and deafen the one to trigger it in time for the guardian draugr to finish them off.

Hadvar had noted the doubtful look on Aneira's face at that statement and couldn't help but echo her concerns. Why hadn't that trap ever come up before in the tomb? More importantly, how would such a trap have never been researched before now? Everyone knew about the spikes, poisonous darts, and flames that could rain down on an unwary traveler in the Nordic crypts, but Hadvar had never heard of chanting or light as a trick the ancient people had used.

What worried him more was Faendal's insistence when they were alone that he hadn't heard a thing from that wall, and he'd been standing beside Aneira when the light surrounded her. There was no question that she'd been drawn to the eerie strands of light like a moth to a flame, but the cavernous room the Bosmer had described had been silent except for the sound of water.

"She asked me what some word meant," Faendal had revealed quietly, leaning on the bridge with Hadvar as Aneira bid a hasty goodbye to the Valeriuses. "I can't even remember what she said. It was just some sound. She looked like she was talking more to herself than me. She stared at the wall for a solid minute before saying whatever that word was meant 'force.'"

"And then the draugr woke up?" Hadvar had inquired worriedly, staring as Camilla gave Aneira a firm hug.

"Nah, that was odd too. All the light and her saying there was chanting, and that draugr still didn't open up until after she moved away from the wall. We'd even tapped the coffin lid before she'd perked up and said something was making noise." Faendal imitated Aneira's soft voice. "Do you hear that? No, I said. It's singing, she mumbled, and then went to the wall." Faendal craned his neck backward, cracking it loudly. "I couldn't explain it if I tried. Whatever writing was on that stone wasn't any language I've ever seen before."

"Aye, and she was awful upset that none of us could tell her what was happening after dinner." Hadvar was glad she hadn't brought it up until late in the evening or she'd have driven herself crazy all day. She'd told him last night that she'd put it out of her mind completely until she showed Uncle Alvor the stone and asked him what the light had been, certain the old smith would somehow know. His absolute lack of knowledge had made her nervous the rest of the night. Hadvar hadn't understood how Aneira could dismiss something so bizarre until she'd whined that he'd shown her a stone that had shot a stream of light into the air with a single touch. Hadvar had admitted that that was a fair point.

"Well, maybe that court wizard will have some idea."

"Hmm," Hadvar had grunted, straightening as Aneira met them on the bridge. Her kiss goodbye had been sweet, though her demeanor said she was still perturbed about the wall, and she didn't linger to tell him how soon she would be back.

Now he sat along the river, whittling a simple rabbit for Dorthe and worrying over his healer. He would never forgive Farengar or himself if something had happened to her in that damn barrow. That entire mission had been foolhardy. Whatever that dragonstone was, Hadvar desperately hoped that it made her risk worth it.

He glanced at the sky in apprehension, checking every cloud and inch of sky for the outline of a dragon. It had been several days since they'd escaped the black monstrosity at Helgen, and so far there had been no reports of further sightings of any winged beasts. Aneira had conveyed her worry to him the night before, and the anticipation had settled in him during the night. _Was_ the world waiting for something? Why hadn't anyone else outside of Helgen seen a dragon if you didn't count Sven's senile mother? Had only one come back? Or rather, had it simply come out of hiding?

More importantly, what in Oblivion could anyone do about it? General Tullius's personal soldiers hadn't taken the creature down. It had been unstoppable, and the memory made his insides twist in fear. He hadn't told anyone, abhorring the idea of looking like a coward, but even his Uncle's forge filled him with nervous energy. The feel of the heat against his skin made him want to bolt.

Hadvar sliced through the wood for a final time, tossing the knife and small rabbit to the ground in frustration. He rubbed his hands roughly across his face, shoving down the stupid fear. He was a soldier in the Imperial Legion, dammit. He wasn't going to let some flying lizard turn him into a milk-drinker.

He rose stiffly to his feet, intending to head inside to get the bucket and soap for a bath when he saw a thin figure come around the grey cliff behind the bridge. His eyes brightened at the sight, and he scooped up his whittling tools and tossed them onto the table at the forge. Grateful his Uncle hadn't noticed, he sped off for the road so they wouldn't be interrupted for at least a few minutes. Truthfully, his Uncle's uncharacteristically standoffish behavior around Aneira was both bemusing and irritating.

He bounded easily across the bridge, pleased that his body no longer gave the slightest protest to his exertions. Now they could go to Solitude and he wouldn't have to worry about slowing her down-

Hadvar came to an abrupt halt a just off the bridge, staring at Aneira as she stopped beside the rotten stump beyond it. His mouth fell open slightly in shock as she gazed back at him with an alarming, unfocused look, letting her large sack sink to the ground.

"Aneira," he breathed, moving toward her to better assess the damage. The long black scorch marks across her chest and boots were stark against the brown leather she'd only just repaired, looking positively frightening when added to the large holes and scratches that now littered the armor. The metal of her helmet was tarnished beyond repair, and the tops of her shoulders looked like they wouldn't hold the armor together for much longer. "Gods, what _happened_?"

"D-dragon," she said thickly, staring at his face unnervingly. "Dragon attack."

"Ah, dammit," Hadvar groaned, moving forward to put his hands on the top of her arms. "Where? Are you alright?" He gave her bare skin a closer examination, pulling her arms out until he could clasp her fingers in his. "You look fine," he commented, turning her arm over to peruse the other side. "Though of course you would be," he met her eyes again, trying to laugh lightly. "Such a great healer."

Aneira's lips trembled slightly as she pulled her hands away from his, quickly laying the palms on his shoulders. She moved forward until her front press against him, laying her head on his chest. He felt her trembling slightly and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey," he whispered, pressing his hands hard against her spine. He fought back a wince at how rough and abused the armor there felt and at the cold metal of the old Nordic greatsword strapped to her. "You're alright, love. You made it out _again_ -"

She choked as he called her that, tightening her grip on his shoulders and raising her head abruptly. He had no more than a moment to process the devastated look on her face before she crushed her lips against his. He gave a grunt of surprise as her left hand came up to snake through his hair, her right trailing down his arm to press it harder against her.

"'Neira," he pushed past his lips when she gave him a moment to breath, his surprise evident even as he clutched her tighter and returned her kiss.

Aneira made a hum in her throat that sounded like a rejection at his attempts to speak. When he tried again a few moments later, she nearly growled as she raised herself onto her toes. "No talking," she ordered against his cheek, her legs nudging against his. "Not here. Come with me."

She backed away from him awkwardly, grabbing his right hand in her left and pushing swiftly past him after grabbing her sack. He allowed her to tug him past the bridge and over the rocks, leading him down the side of the river and away from the village. He lost track of how far she dragged him, noting only that the town was out of sight when she finally turned to him again.

"You're going to make me answer your questions before we do anything else, aren't you?" Hadvar noted a crazed desperateness in her eyes, her pupils still dilated and cheeks flushed from her earlier tears. "You want to know what happened out there? A dragon attacked a watchtower and destroyed it. Irileth dragged me out to fight it for gods know what reason. Apparently surviving Helgen makes me a damn expert on dragons." She gave a high pitched huff, bringing her left hand up to wipe her eyes and look away from him. "So," she went on, staring at the grey mountainside, "I went out there and found nothing but burning rocks and charred bodies on the outside. Then I found a guard still clinging to life on the stairs of the tower, and tried to save him. I got his wound closed just in time for the dragon to come back out of the mountains and rain fire down on us all. I thought my skin would fall off if I didn't get inside the tower. If I hadn't already been healing him you'd be looking for my charred corpse inside there."

Hadvar made a sound of grief, moving forward to embrace her again when she put her hands up, backing away from him and moving toward the water.

"It seemed like all the arrows we were shooting did nothing. The thing barely flinched even when I landed a direct hit on its belly. Finally it landed, and I used my lightning on it." She tossed her head back and laughed pitifully. "It seemed to dislike that. It started screaming when I struck its face. The guards and I took the opportunity to attack the hide." She reached behind her and held the greatsword in a tight grip, tilting it and swinging the strap off her chest. "The frost on this greatsword hurt it like you wouldn't believe. I destroyed the wing joints with a few swings." She turned to face him again as she tossed the sword at his feet, a fierce look in her eyes. He was almost grateful to see it; anything was better than that despair he'd seen earlier. "We killed it, Hadvar."

"Oh," he breathed, sagging with relief at the news. "They can be killed? They aren't immortal?"

Aneira's face constricted with pain again, giving him a nod of affirmation as she turned back to the water. "That creature isn't going to rise from the grave again. Not anymore."

Hadvar furrowed his brow at her bleak tone, moving forward to put his hands on the back of her shoulders. She flinched against his hands, but didn't shake him off. He reached over with one hand and carefully pulled the dirty helmet away from her head. The tips of her hair that had been exposed were burnt, but the rest was only damp with sweat.

"Sweet priestess," he whispered lightly into her ear, earning a shiver. He moved his arms around her front to hug her loosely, leaning his left cheek against her right. "I'm so thankful you are safe." He almost couldn't stand the idea that she had been asked to face a dragon again. The thought was terrifying.

She made a small sound and pressed against him, bring her arms up to wrap her hands around his forearm. "So many died, Hadvar," she whimpered. "I tried to save them and three were gone before my spell took hold. If I'd gotten to them even a minute sooner the burns might have been healed and-"

"Do _not_ tell me it was your fault. I've seen you heal like it was second nature to you. They died in a dragon attack." He squeezed her so tightly he worried he might be hurting her. "Sweet healer, think of how many you still saved. Tell me _that_."

Aneira huffed unhappily, dropping her lips to his arm. "A few. The one from the tower stairs survived. Irileth took a nasty blow to the side, but I think she's alright now. A few others had some bad burns."

"There," Hadvar said in satisfaction, turning her around in his arms to rest his hands atop her shoulders. "So you know the death toll would have been greater than what it was if _not_ for you." She let him kiss her forehead and trace the back of his fingers down her cheek. "And with any luck you'll never have to face one of those monsters again."

Aneira gave another choked laugh and looked at him with misty eyes. He feared she would start weeping again when she pulled out of his arms and strode toward the cliff side. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair and staring out over the water. The reflection of the mountain drew his gaze when a shadow cut across the water. He started for a moment, jerking his eyes to the sky in search of a black shadow making its way across the water, but saw only a high hawk. He shook his head in disgust, chastising his fearful reaction and turning around slowly, hearing Aneira shuffling around behind him.

Thoughts of dragons and fear were abruptly chased from his head. Hadvar's mouth fell open in shock again when he saw the straps of Aneira's armor hanging undone at her sides and shoulders, her arms shoving forcefully out of the leather as she pulled it over her head. Her back was to him, leaving him with a generous view of her legs as her tunic was tugged upward from the armor. He blinked several times as she gracelessly tossed the heavy armor to the ground, reaching up slowly to undo the strings at the front of her thin undershirt. She did not look back at him as she lowered her hands to grip the shirt edge, treating it with the same care as the armor and tossing it to the ground. She bent over quickly, shedding her soft leather shorts hastily and leaving herself in nothing but her underthings. At the sight of her pale, unblemished back, her muscles flexing as she reached back to undo the ties of her chest restraints, Hadvar felt his entire body flood with a familiar, demanding heat.

"What are you-?" Hadvar whispered, feeling like a fool when she turned to give him her profile. It was damn obvious _what_ she was doing.

"I think I need a bath, Hadvar," she answered quietly, turning to face him with her hands still behind her at the straps. "Will you help me?" Aneira queried softly, moving her hands upward to hold her hair above her neck.

Hadvar swallowed dumbly before tentatively moving forward, angling around her until he stood behind her again. He inhaled and held his breath as he carefully brought his fingers to the thin string, trying unsuccessfully to avoid her skin. She exhaled shakily as his fingers brushed against her spine, her body warm against the tips. He held both ends of the straps loosely and began to pull cautiously, almost certain she would tell him to stop and nearly sagging with uncertainty when she did not. The knot came undone, releasing the firm grip the cloth had on her breasts and causing it to fall forward. Hadvar swallowed again at the unobscured view of her back, reaching up to undo the second set of straps at her neck. He caught a glimpse of the top of her pale flesh as Aneira released her hair and steadily moved forward toward the shore.

His swift reaction to her naked form now was almost amusing, considering he'd been pressed against those curves only days ago and had been too exhausted to truly notice. When her feet reached the water her entire body tensed from the feeling. Hadvar was certain the river would feel icy if she was as warm as he.

She turned to look at him again over her right shoulder, her head tilted down and eyes cast upwards at his. "You're wearing too much, soldier," she stated plainly, fingers moving to the cloth still covering her backside.

She bent over to slide the worn material down her legs and Hadvar spun around to face the cliff, his fingers flying obediently to the clasps of his shirt. He briefly thanked the Divines that he'd elected to leave his armor off that day, choosing instead to wear pants and a cotton shirt that were easily dealt with. He heard the water part behind him and fought the urge to turn around, knowing he would only embarrassed himself at this point if he did. He struggled to get out of his pants, hopping ridiculously on one leg in his urgency.

When he was finally bare Hadvar turned around, spotting her form floating in the water a little way from the shore. She was facing him again, her shoulders peeking out from the water as she reclined in the slow current. He took a deep breath, praying belatedly that she was too far away to get a decent look at the clear indication of his thoughts. Moving into the water, the evidence of that was sharply diminished by the cool temperature. He grunted, the sensation almost painful, and rushed quickly into the stream until his hips were covered.

Aneira said nothing when he tipped forward to swim on his stomach, arms stroking through the water until he reached her. As he drew close she shifted her position, lowering her legs back to the rocky riverbed and standing up straight. The water just barely covered her breasts, and it wasn't high or dark enough to shield the pink tips from his view.

Hadvar reached for her almost immediately, his right hand grasping her left upper arm and tugging her toward him. He stood with his chest above the current, heaving a little as she stretched forward to slide her wet arms around his neck.

"Hadvar," she whispered, leaning forward to press herself again him. He dropped his right hand to her hip, sliding his fingers along her skin beneath the water. His left hand splayed out against her back, tracing the knobs of her spine until he could clutch her neck. "It's been such a long day, Hadvar," she nearly begged, parting her legs beneath the water and almost straddling him. Aneira said nothing else, hoisting herself off the ground with her arms on his shoulders to angle her face above his.

Hadvar didn't take the moment to respond, bringing both hands beneath her thighs to keep her firm against him. She tightened her legs around his hips and kissed him, keeping her mouth on him until her lips and tongue began twisting with his.

He exhaled in a deep moan as she slid down his body in a slow motion, pushing her hands against his chest and running her fingers across the broad muscles there.

Aneira caught him entirely unaware when she dug her feet into the rocks beneath them and lunged forward, fastening their lips together as they fell back into the water. Hadvar had time only to turn away and inhale a gust of air before he was submerged, eyes squeezing shut as Aneira wrapped her hands in his hair, kissing and holding him fast until they landed gently at the bottom of the river with their legs entwined and bodies flush together.


	8. On This Patch of Nirn

His arms shielded her sides from a good deal of the cool wind blowing across the river, carrying with it the icy temperatures of the snow-capped mountain. Despite the heat his body provided her, she still felt the cold seeping into her skin. It served as just another reminder that she could not lay with him like this forever.

Hadvar seemed to have no such worries, cutting his mouth languorously across hers with no indication that he would be stopping any time soon. He kept his weight on his bent elbows, shielding her body with his own and allowing her back to recline easily against the soft grass. His legs slid against hers, their skin still damp from their long bath. Their intimate connection had been broken only a short while ago, leaving her nerves tingling to the tips of her toes.

Aneira opened her eyes slowly, reluctant to break the contented spell that had come over him. Hers had broken each time they had stopped to rest, and now the idea of breaching the tender silence tore at her. Fortunately, Hadvar didn't notice her preoccupation, though she was doing a fine job of hiding it. She returned his kisses softly, letting her fingers trail across the wet planes of his back and down his sides, dipping her right hand between their chests to rest over his heart. Hadvar sighed against her mouth, allowing his lips to slide down her jawline. He dropped his head with a deep groan to her shoulder, giving the slope of her neck a gentle nip. She curled her toes and felt her knees bend of their own accord, letting the soldier lean further into her body. The low sound he made in his throat sounded almost pained.

"Aneira," he breathed, his limbs now trembling in an effort to keep his weight off her. She pushed carefully against him, turning herself onto her left side so that he fell into the grass beside her. Hadvar kept his face pressed against her neck, reaching up his hands to cup her cheeks.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered so breathlessly she wasn't certain he heard her.

He muttered something that was so muddled by her skin that she could not make out the words.

"Hmm?" She let her right hand come up to brush away his red hair. He nearly sagged against her at the contact, and she choked at the sudden pressure of his arms moving to clutch her tightly. "Hadvar, what-?"

"I let them send you to the block," he whispered dully against her collarbone, bringing his right hand into her hair while his left wrapped around her hip. "How could I have let them execute you?" Aneira made a soft sound, winding her right fingers into his soaked hair. Hadvar answered with another kiss against the slope of her shoulder. "My sweet priestess," he breathed against her warm skin, making her body shift against his lips from the ticklish sensation.

"Oh," Aneira exhaled, moved almost to tears at the sweet tone of his voice. "My brave soldier," she responded, "you saved my life. I already forgave you, and there was nothing to forgive. You didn't give that order," she pushed lightly against his chest, trying not to be distracted by the way his pectorals flexed when she brushed his dark nipple. "I'm grateful you even cared to speak up when you did." She brought her hand back up to his left cheek. "You saved me when I was nothing but a liability to you."

Hadvar frowned at her answer, shaking his head and turning his lips into her palm. He left a wet kiss there, staring past her into the distance. "The idea," he began against her fingers, letting his mouth move against the pads before facing her again, "that you might have died right there is unbearable. Gods," he shuddered, running his hand up her back and warming the skin there, "I never would have held you like this. I would've gone on living without ever realizing what I missed."

Aneira bit her lip, touched beyond words at the sincerity and despair in his voice. His forthright nature was one of the things that drew her to him the most, even when it made her want to weep. She leaned forward to kiss the flesh above his heart, smiling against the rapid beat. He sighed shakily into her hair, leaving the fingers of his right hand against her scalp as his left continued its slow caresses.

"I need to know," he bit out desperately, tilting her head back until their eyes met. "Tell me you feel it, too?" Hadvar asked in a rush, bending down to press their lips together. "I've never felt like this about anyone before," he admitted against her mouth, catching her bottom lip between both of his. "I know that sounds like something a foolish young lad would say, but it's-"

"No, no," Aneira reassured him quickly, cutting his words off with another kiss. "Not foolish," she breathed against his mouth. "I know exactly what you mean," she confessed, pulling back to meet his blue eyes. "When I'm near you, it's like the weight on my chest fades away." She slid her body against him, her lips pursing to fight a grin when his eyes rolled a little at the intimate contact. "I've never felt safer than when I'm with you."

"Yes," Hadvar exclaimed breathily, twisting his body so that he hovered over her side again. "Every time you've left the village I've been unable to do anything except count the hours until I think you'll come back." He chuckled against her cheek, and she felt the vibrations down the length of him. "I've driven Uncle Alvor mad. He kept telling me I needed to get it together and report back to duty, but I couldn't bear to leave without you."

Aneira stiffened at that, the reality of her situation and his crashing over her like the cold waves in the river. The satisfying and wondrous feeling he'd filled her with over the past few hours was once again blown away by the thunderous word reverberating in her head.

 _DOVAHKIIN_.

She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him the truth about her circumstances, but found the words clogged her throat. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as the stress and terror from earlier in the day returned to her, causing her body to tremble in his arms.

Hadvar noticed immediately and arched his back, pulling his face above hers and staring at her in shock.

"Aneira?" He brought his hands to her shoulders, moving his left knee over her until he hovered above her on all fours. "What's wrong?" She smiled through her tears at the genuine panic on his face, moving to cover her face with her hands until only blackness surrounded her. She felt Hadvar release her right shoulder to tug on her wrist, pulling her right hand down her cheek until his rough palm could cradle her face. "For the love of Mara, Aneira, what did I do? What did I say?"

"Nothing," Aneira said quietly, her head slipping on the ground as the frustrated sobs forced her body to quiver. "You didn't do anything. It's… _this_." She spread her left hand away from her face and gestured over the quiet land they occupied. "All I want is to lay here with you and never leave this patch of Nirn."

Hadvar's expression changed at that, becoming so delightedly surprised she nearly stopped there to bring him back down upon her. But now the truth had begun to pour out, and she could not stop the tide.

"But I cannot. _We_ cannot," she added, and noted the slow fall in his smile. "Everything is, is," she could not continue, covering her face again with her left hand and blindly wiping away the few tears that had leaked out. Aneira shook her head, turning to nuzzle against his palm. "Everything is altered now, Hadvar." She sighed into his hand, smiling as his thumb swept across the apple of her cheek. He spoke again when she did not go on.

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Hadvar pleaded with her, lowering his body to cover hers again as a chilly wind rolled down the mountain behind them. "What happened? Is it something I did?" She shook her head before he could finish that sentence.

"No," she reassured him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders and nestle against him. "It's nothing you did." She gave a low laugh. "All you've done is make me happy. Coming back to Riverwood has been a pleasure when I know you're here waiting for me." Hadvar made a pleased sound that she felt in his back, though he was obviously still befuddled by her demeanor. "But now, I don't know what's going to happen. I just wanted to go to Solitude with you," she lamented, and immediately felt the tension across his muscles, "but now I don't think I can."

Hadvar pulled away again, his expression uncertain and unmistakably hurt. "What do you mean you cannot? Why?"

Aneira groaned, digging her fingers into her eyes as she wished the truth wasn't so bizarre. "You won't believe me when I tell you," she groused, turning her face to the side and letting the grass tickle her temple. "It's insane. If I hadn't seen it happen, I wouldn't believe it. But everyone in Whiterun knows now."

"Aneira," Hadvar turned her face back to him again, a frown marring his handsome features. "You're speaking in riddles," he scolded lightly, trailing his fingers into her hair again. "Tell me what is going on?" The pleading quality entered his voice again, and she understood that procrastinating now would only make it worse.

She inhaled a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before exhaling in a long "oh" and forcing her body to relax against his and loosen the tightness in her chest. "When we killed the dragon," she began slowly, "its entire body began to burst into flames." Aneira looked into his eyes again, suddenly desperate to see his unadulterated reaction to her tale. "I was standing beside it when it happened, examining the body to make sure it was really dead. We all ran away when it started, hiding around rocks as it began to disappear. But then," she gulped, still unable to grasp the meaning of what had happened to her, "this light started swirling around the body, and it wrapped around me. It was similar to what had happened in Bleak Falls, but this was so much… _more_." She watched Hadvar's eyes widen as his mouth fell open. "It felt like I was taking that creature's life force into me, and one of the guards said," she took a shaky breath, pressing one of her hands against her chest to control her breathing. Hadvar placed his hand over hers, making her heart swell with affection for him. "He said that I took the dragon's soul."

The soldier made an incomprehensible sound, staring at her dumbfounded and incredulous. She squished her lips together firmly as she waited for him to deny it, to say that it was impossible. That's what Vilkas had done, what Greymane had done, and what several of the Nords she'd tried to ask had done.

"You took its _soul_?" Hadvar breathed, squeezing his fingers tightly over her hand. Aneira stared at him, waiting to see what more he would say. Her eyes darted across his face, begging him to believe her, to- "You _absorbed_ a dragon? Like in the ancient legends?"

The woman couldn't answer him at first, too preoccupied with his reaction to do more than nod. He rocked back onto his knees, pulling her to a sitting position. He kept their hands over her heart, wrapping his other arm around her waist so that they sat together chest to chest. Her mouth parted as she exhaled slowly, looking down at his pale chest to avoid his inquisitive eyes. "Great Gods," Hadvar exclaimed quietly, his breath fanning past her cheek. "That's- It's-" She saw him shake his head from the corner of her eye. "Talos preserve us, I don't even know _what_ that is."

Aneira laughed dryly. "It means I'm Dragonborn," she said with a calm she did not feel, looking back into his eyes. "I am as Tiber Septim was. And now the Greybeards have summoned me to the Throat of the World."

Hadvar gaped at her again, and she gently inquired whether or not he had heard the colossal echo of their call to the "Dovahkiin."

"Aye, I heard something," he answered, leaning closer so that he could press against her. "But I was next to the mill fishing. The saw was running. I couldn't make out a word of what was said." He shook his head, closing his eyes as the shock began to wear on him. "No one in town knew what in Oblivion it was. I put it out of my mind. Figured it had to be avalanche nearby."

Aneira rested her head against his wide shoulder, sighing morosely. "I wish it had just been an avalanche. That would make sense." She curled her face into his neck, rubbing the thick cords of his throat with her nose. "What can all this mean, Hadvar?" She thought out loud, grateful when he brought both his warm arms around her and held her carefully. "First dragons are returning, and now I find out that I possess some ancient Nordic gift?"

"I don't know," he murmured into her left ear. "I'm sorry. I honestly have no idea what any of this means." He pressed a kiss to her temple and made a low sound against her head. "But it can't just be a coincidence that the first Dragonborn in thousands of years happened to be at Helgen when one attacked."

"No," Aneira agreed, wrapping her arms low around his waist. "It can't be. It can't have been pure chance that I arrived in Skyrim only hours before the dragons appeared." She shuddered against him, burying her face in his shoulder. "I said the world was holding its breath," she nearly moaned, dragging her lips across his skin. "Please don't tell me it was waiting for me?" Hadvar said nothing, but returned the pressure on her back and mimicked her position, inhaling deeply at the skin of her neck.

They sat in silence for many minutes until the sun sunk so low that the cold could no longer be ignored by their bare bodies. Reluctantly, Aneira pulled away from him, tilting her head sadly to see the mystified way her look at her. She took his hand and brought him to his feet, walking slowly back toward her discarded clothes and weapons.

"We should head back," she muttered as she bent over her pack, reaching in to pull out the spare dress she'd acquired. "Forgive me for taking you away from your family for so long. It must be time for you all to have dinner by now," she added, trying to fight a blush as she felt him stare at her from behind. "I just… when I saw you it was like I couldn't help it-" Aneira rose to a standing position again to pull the blue material over her shoulders when Hadvar's muscular arms came abruptly around her. She grunted in surprise as he pinned her upper limbs to her sides, covering her breasts and ribs. He gave her no opportunity to speak.

"It doesn't change anything," the Nord insisted passionately, kissing her neck so hard she felt his teeth. "It doesn't change the way I feel. You make everything…" He didn't go on, choosing only to hold her securely in his arms as she brought her hands to rest against on his forearm.

Tears came to her eyes anew at the sensation she felt bloom in her chest, and Aneira dropped the dress to the ground to press against him, praying fervently to whatever Divine would listen to grant her this one facet of the future she desired.

* * *

He came up behind her to handle the strings of her brown leathery corset without prompting, carefully tying the knots until her dress hung properly. She held her hair aloft in one hand to help him, biting her bottom lip lightly and grinning when he pressed a kiss on the back of her neck. She smiled fully as he wrapped his hands around her waist, swaying them for several peaceful moments before releasing her to take her hand.

"Let's go back, Aneira." Hadvar whispered against her temple, tilting her chin up with his right hand to press a tender kiss against her lips. She sighed softly against him, squeezing his fingers as he pulled away. "Nothing's changed, sweet healer." Hadvar promised, turning away from her to lead her by the hand back down the river.

Her eyes grew heavy as he turned away, because despite the sweetness of his kisses and delicious warmth of his embrace and words, she knew that he was very wrong.


	9. Overstayed Welcome

"So you're going to wait here again until she comes back?"

Hadvar blinked slowly, casting his gaze over the river instead of at his uncle.

"Where did she say she was going?"

"Dustman's Cairn," Hadvar said pointedly, tossing another fishing line into the water.

"Ah, wonderful. Another Nordic ruin to plunder." The tone was teasing, and Hadvar took that as a positive sign that this conversation wouldn't dissolve into roars.

"Well, better a cave delver than a bandit who steals from the living," Hadvar pointed out lightly. He and his uncle knew exactly what Aneira had set out to do in the cairn. She'd told them all of her latest quest in great detail, including the Companion's ceaseless hunt for the lost pieces of an ancient axe. He'd been ardently prodding her for more details on the quest, on the Companions, on Whiterun; on anything to keep her from falling into a solemn silence as she remembered what else she had to do.

"It's unwise to keep the Greybeards waiting." Hadvar said nothing in response to Alvor's gruff reminder, knowing his well-meaning uncle didn't say anything pointlessly. "This isn't something she can run from, boy." To his credit, Uncle Alvor did not say it unkindly.

"She isn't _running_." Hadvar stated quietly, securing the thin pole in the ground with a hard jab. "She's completely turned around from everything that's happened. She needs time to-"

"Time isn't something we have to waste anymore if the dragons are returning," Alvor cut him off firmly, coming to stand behind his nephew. "She is Dragonborn, like Talos himself before her, and like it or nots she has to accept that and receive the proper training with the Thu'um."

"I didn't realize you were such an expert in Nordic lore, Uncle," Hadvar muttered morosely, still a little sore that his Uncle had been able to provide Aneira with a wealth of ancient legends while Hadvar had merely sat there dumbly.

"Watch yourself, boy," Alvor warned, his tone ringing like steel. It was something Hadvar had long learned to avoid as a child. "I'm only speaking the truth. You don't get a choice in this-"

"And _that_ is what terrifies her!" Hadvar growled as he whipped around, catching a look of disapproval on Alvor's face as he moved down the river toward the mill. "It terrifies _me_! You think I don't already know how-how _powerless_ I am in this?" He felt his expression crumble, and ran a hand hard down his face to hide his vulnerability from his Uncle. He turned back to the river. "It drives me mad, but all I can do now is wait for her."

"No, what you can _do_ is report to Solitude before they write you off on the list of the dead," Uncle Alvor called from where he stood, arms crossed in the stubborn stance he'd always assumed when he believed himself to be right. "You have a duty to return to, Hadvar. You can't just linger here."

Hadvar laughed sullenly. "General Tullius has greater things to worry about than one lowly foot soldier. But that's why Aneira took a letter to Whiterun for me. A courier there will take it to Solitude and report what has happened." Hadvar heard Uncle Alvor grunt noncommittally, and went on. "It was Aneira's idea. Try to buy myself some days by telling the General that I would be personally escorting the Dragonborn to Solitude to speak with him."

"Hmph. She's certainly eager to keep you nearby, though she seems to have no issue leaving now."

Hadvar's patience grew very thin as he turned to the man that had been his father for years. "Is that a problem for you?" Alvor made a low noise in his throat, clearly annoyed as this conversation turned sour for the third time since Hadvar had arrived in Riverwood. "Whatever you are trying to say, Uncle Alvor, _say it_." Hadvar brushed the grass clinging to his legs away to give his hands something to do. "It isn't like you to beat around the bush."

Uncle Alvor's eyes narrowed again, but he acquiesced. "You need to get your head on straight and report back to duty. That woman-"

"Aneira," Hadvar interjected in exasperation, though his uncle did not stop.

"-said you were healed, and you ought to hurry back."

"You've already told me that, Uncle," Hadvar answered, reaching down to pick up a flat stone near the river edge. "I'm smart enough to see that something else troubles you."

The smith said nothing for many moments, watching as Hadvar easily skipped the stone across the water. They watched together as it sank until Alvor breathed harshly through his nose, letting his arms drop as he moved closer to his nephew.

"I know you're smart, boy," he began earnestly, clapping his left hand firmly on Hadvar's right shoulder. "You're a clever lad, and you should already see what is happening here."

"See what?" Hadvar demanded, turning his head to face Alvor. He didn't move to jostle the hand resting on him, and was certain his uncle felt the tension in him. "That I've met a woman who makes me happy?"

"It's not your happiness that concerns me," Alvor replied, though his face twitched at Hadvar's cocked eyebrow. "Blast it, boy, you know what I mean. That woman doesn't just make you _happy_ ," Alvor insisted as Hadvar smirked slightly from his flustered voice. "You're using her to feel _safe_."

Hadvar's expression slowly fell, a distinctly cold and uncomfortable feeling curling in his gut. It felt almost like guilt.

"What are you talking about?"

Alvor said nothing, taking his hand away from Hadvar's shoulder to spread it out before the water. "Since you escaped that dragon you've been stalling here, always waiting for her to come back and take you to Solitude. Why can't you just head out alone? Or take a carriage from Whiterun if you want company so badly?" Hadvar furrowed his brow, looking down at the rushing river with a scowl. "It's not _like_ you, boy. You've always put your duty to the legion above everything else-"

"That isn't what this is!" Hadvar snapped, running a hand viciously through his hair. "I'm not _hiding_ here like a child. I'm waiting for her to help _her_. The Legion sent her to the block when she hadn't done anything to deserve it. I'm trying to make it up to her." The excuse, though he knew it to be true, sounded weak to his ears.

"By standing around Riverwood?"

"By personally taking her to General Tullius and explaining everything!" Hadvar cried, loathing the unconvinced look his uncle wore. He felt the frustration building in his chest when his uncle shook his head.

"You don't need to hold her hand all the way to Solitude. What's more, no one is going to come after her on those charges. Word is that few people escaped Helgen alive. Who is going to remember her face, or dare to accuse a Dragonborn of being a criminal?"

"Anyone who thinks she's a damn Stormcloak, that's who," Hadvar reasoned, wishing his uncle hadn't reminded him that at this point, there was little to no point in dragging Aneira to Solitude.  The Dragonborn hadn't even been on the list of those to be executed.  And since she'd jumped the border, there was quite likely no record of her anywhere for the Legion to find in Skyrim.

"So why don't you take yourself to Solitude alone and tell Tullius that the Dragonborn was with you at Helgen, and explain without her? She doesn't need to be there for your debriefing with the General."

Hadvar's lip twisted at his Uncle's relentless prodding. "Because it will be simpler if she goes with me," he said, and wished it hadn't sounded so forced.

Alvor stood before him, eyes hard, for many long moments before he shook his head. "You say you're not hiding here. Prove it. Tell her you need to go back to Solitude, and if she cannot do that then you need to go your separate ways."

Hadvar watched his uncle trudge back toward the smithy, clenching his fists before reaching down to fling a rock clear across the river, watching it shatter against the cliff side.

* * *

Several days had come and gone, and Hadvar felt both his nerves and the tension in the small house ratchet each morning that Aneira did not return. The single letter that he had received confirmed that she had sent word to Tullius of the situation, that she had survived the cairn, and, Hadvar's blood had completely drained from his face as he read it, that she and the companion Farkas had downed and killed another dragon. He was queasy at the thought of what that meant for her when she was already so stressed. Would Aneira be able to handle _another_ dragon soul? How many could she take?

Hadvar had steadfastly ignored the looks of his uncle as he perused the letter, shoving aside the claims that he was too frightened of dragons to set foot in the world again. He was a soldier in the Imperial Legion. He did not cower in fear of winged lizards.

As the sun wore on the third day, his tiny cousin approached him with her carved rabbit, twisting it idly in her hands while she asked Hadvar if he would like to sleep with it tonight.

"Eh?" He blinked in surprise. "Why would I take it?"

Dorthe scuffed her foot on the ground, looking sheepish. "I just thought it might help you sleep better tonight, since you don't have Aneira anymore. You've been having those bad dreams ever since she left."

Hadvar's mouth gaped like a fish's, staring at little Dorthe in disbelief. "What dreams?"

"I dunno," she answered, mouth puckered with her discomfort. "You keep yelling all sorts of stuff. Like dragons, and-"

Hadvar did not wait for her to finish, standing from his seat at the river and startling the young girl as he walked swiftly away.

"Hadvar?"

"I don't want your toy, Dorthe," he said without turning back, wishing only to be away from his cousin and anyone else. The wind rolled strongly down the mountain, ruffling his hair and causing him to cast his gaze around the skies. His heart hammered slightly as he took in each cloud, each bird, to make certain there was nothing nefarious heading toward them.

The soldier rolled his shoulders in aggravation, berating himself for engaging in the cowardly behavior he denied. He hadn't been this jumpy or agitated by the possibility of dragons before now. Why was he only starting to feel paranoia now?

_You're using her to feel_ _**safe** _ _._

"Ridiculous," he muttered to himself, moving up the path south of the town toward Lake Ilinalta. _I'm no coward, and no pathetic milksop that needs a protector. I'm a soldier. I survived a damn dragon attack with her_.

But as he gazed over the lake, bathed in the golden glow of sunset, he still did not want to leave the little hamlet to return to his duties alone.


	10. Doubts

She wanted to cry with relief as she turned onto the stone bridge for what seemed like the hundredth time, jogging sluggishly toward the other side of the river with a weary smile at the sight of Dorthe and Frodnar running through the streets with the latter's dog following dutifully in tow. The early afternoon sun was blazing as the last day of Last Seed brought the warmest time of the year to a close. As Alvor's forge still blazed with heat that rippled out from under his roof, the mill chewed through another log out of sight, and the inn filled the air with delicious smells, Aneira felt a surge of complacency travel through her.

After all those years of boredom in Bruma, who would have thought she'd find such peace in a small hamlet in the middle of Skyrim? Her family would have laughed at her.

Aneira smiled through a sigh as she headed past the inn, waving casually at Embry and hoisting her for-once light pack higher up onto her shoulder. Being a thane certainly had its perks if she could leave what treasure she wanted to keep in Lydia's care. Faendal had certainly been helpful in that regard, but her Bosmer friend had been eager to return to his Imperial lady, and far be it from her to get in the way of love. She hoped he'd get some use out of her present soon.

Said wood elf appeared on the road near the bridge to the mill, hands resting easily on the axe strewn across his shoulders. She halted near the steps of the smithy, turning her body to the left as the worker spotted her. He waved cheerily with one hand over the axe, lowering his tool as he strode toward her. Aneira cast a quick glance at the door before moving away, hearing the sound of a conversation already in progress in the wooden house.

"Been a few days, Aneira," Faendal said easily, putting his right arm around her left shoulder in a brief hug. "What has the Dragonborn seen now?"

Aneira grimaced at his question, the burden of the arduous week weighing upon her anew. Dustman's Cairn, Meridia's Beacon, werewolves, another word wall, another dragon, High Hrothgar, _another_ dragon, caves and fortress galore, and now the daunting task of making her way to another crypt in north western Skyrim.

"Too much, my friend. Far too much. What I wouldn't give to lay low for a few days."

Faendal gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, lowering the axe until the blade dragged along the ground. "I've heard rumors from the new guards that came yesterday. Is it true you slew another dragon?"

Aneira blew a stream of air past her lips, craning her neck backwards. "Two more, actually. One on the plains and one in the mountains outside Ivarstead."

Faendal eyed her for a moment, his dark eyes probing. "So you really went to them, huh?"

"Didn't have much of a choice. I found another word wall, and shortly after another dragon soul filled in the gap." She stared at him without expression, a skill she had never before desired to learn. "I can breathe fire, Faendal," she said matter-of-factly.

Her friend's reaction would have been quite comical if the revelation wasn't so bizarre. He overtly flinched away from her, eyes wide and a mouth to match. He blinked rapidly and stared at her mouth for several seconds before recovering himself. When he met her eyes again and noted her cocked eyebrow, he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Just a little startling."

" _Hmph_ ," Aneira laughed. "Try actually breathing fire if you want startling."

Faendal made a sound of agreement, eyes returning to her mouth. "I think I'll pass if it's all the same." He gave her his usual grin, and she forgave him the slight hurt his aversion had caused. It was justified, and unfair of her to be so petty. "Any other new tricks?"

"Oh," she said with a bit of a smile, "the Greybeards showed me a shout that allows me to cover distance faster. It's fairly weak, but useful when surrounded. Oh, _and_ they gave me another word to use with _Fus_. Apparently these shouts come in sets of three." She couldn't help the rush of enthusiasm that came out from the knowledge. She was a scholar, after all.

"Auriel help us, you're going to be unstoppable before long." Faendal's eyes were appreciative, and his awe genuine. She fought off the blush that came from the praise, growing used to the reverence with which people regarded the thu'um. It was certainly an impressive ability.

"You better pray I am if the dragons don't disappear," she jested back, only partially serious. It had admittedly become easier to accept her incredible fate after her time with the Greybeards. The peaceful old men had treated her as a student, firm yet encouraging, and she'd found a familiar paternal comfort in their teaching. "But anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Aneira set her pack on the ground, lifting the flap and digging around until her hands found the cool chain.

"Aneira," Faendal began hesitantly, eyeing the amulet apprehensively.

"Don't get excited," she chided lightly, keeping the main portion of the necklace wrapped in her fingers out of sight. "This is most certainly not a proposal. But you mentioned that you didn't have one, and I found that in Dustman's Cairn." She pressed the chain into his chest, forcing him to reach up and catch it. "Take it and keep it handy. Just in case Camilla needs one."

"Eh, thanks," Faendal grinned slightly, his brown skin turning dark as he shoved the Amulet of Mara in his pocket. "But what about you?"

"I don't like you like that." Aneira quipped easily, smacking the elf on the shoulder with a grin as she turned away. He guffawed behind her before she heard him head up the path toward his house. She smiled in relaxation as she moved toward the smithy.

It was the longest she'd been away from Riverwood, from Hadvar, since she'd met him. Gods, had that really only been two weeks ago? How could so much change in so little time?

 _Well_ , she thought firmly, _it doesn't matter. All that matters is that we stay close, and everything else will-_

"-twisting my words completely. What I don't like is you, the smartest boy in Whiterun, dumping everything you've worked toward for a woman you've known a fortnight! I have nothing against _her_ , who she is or what she is."

Aneira brought herself to a stiff halt on the steps of Alvor's house, eyes fixed on the open door as she froze.

"Well, you could've fooled me considering how piss poor you've treated her from the beginning!"

"Hadvar!" Aneira heard Sigrid cry out, her tone tearful. "How can you say that? I went out of my way to ensure she felt welcome!" She folded her lips apprehensively, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed the shouting.

"I didn't- I wasn't talking about _you_ , Aunt Sigrid." Hadvar's reassurance came quickly, his tone far more moderated than his previous outburst. Aneira turned back to the opening, feeling her throat tighten.

"Only a fool would have taken her word without question." Alvor said in annoyance. "I'm not going through this again. We're talking about _you_. You need to get going-"

"Stop telling me what I need to do," Hadvar's voice bit back, the angriest she'd heard him. "You don't know what I need to do right now. You weren't _there_. You didn't see what we went up against-"

"Lad, that is my point!" Alvor cut him off with a bellow, making Aneira flinch as she moved painstakingly slowly up the tiny stairs. "You're clinging to her like a damn child because she helped you get out alive! I've seen the way you flinch and look at the sky since she went off gods know where. You think I've never seen this before in my life? It happens all the time in the Legion. Your parents used to tell me about what happened to soldiers who survived catastrophes. They went through the same thing now and again!"

Hadvar said nothing for many tense seconds, and Aneira remained absolutely still, standing with her ear outside the door and watching the forge crackle and spit from across the porch.

"Don't bring them into this," Hadvar said lowly, barely concealed fury contained in the shaky exclamation. "How dare you use them for this?" Aneira covered her mouth at the pain in his voice, wishing to run inside and comfort him but too choked by a nameless fear to move.

"Your mother used to tell me of how certain squads could only function together after a while. Most thought it was because they simply learned one another's fighting habits and grew to understand each other's techniques. She said it was something more," Alvor paused, almost waiting to see if Hadvar would interrupt. Aneira wished for a moment that he would. She didn't want to hear more of this. "Some folks simply couldn't go on without each other. When you've marched through tides of blood and war like that and lived, you feel that you can only keep on living if you _stay_ together. It didn't even have to do with romance." He paused again, and Aneira bit her lip. "You remember old Rorik and Jouane out in Rorikstead?" Yet another pause, and neither of the other participants spoke. "Rorik hasn't gone a day without the Breton since he healed him during the war. Jouane decided he was perfectly happy to abandon everything in his life to stay near Rorik."

"They're friends," Hadvar argued, and Sigrid chimed in again. Aneira didn't process what was said as her head abruptly swam with words her father had spoken years ago; words that she'd never thought to remember before that moment.

" _Healer's Infatuation. It's a recurring problem in the Legion."_

" _What is it?"_

" _Oh, some healers can grow overly attached to patients if they spend too much time together. They start to believe they're in love when really it's just the stress of war taking a toll on them."_

" _Did that ever happen to you, Papa?"_

_Her father had scoffed. "I had your mother. I already knew what love was." He'd shaken his head a little sadly. "All they had was a pale imitation."_

"Son," Alvor began again, a pleading quality coming into his gravelly voice, "I'm not saying you're a coward, and I'm not asking you to walk away without a word. No one is saying you can never see her again. But you have a duty to the Legion, and to Skyrim. You cannot wait any longer."

"I sent word-" Hadvar began, only to have Alvor cut him off with a curse.

"Blast it, a letter isn't good enough! You're in the auxillary! You don't get to make decisions like this! If you wait much longer, Tullius is going to have you dragged before a hearing and charged with desertion."

Aneira heard the room fall silent again, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest as she worked up the courage to make her presence known. It was painful how far her bravery fell when confronted with a situation such as this. Only two days ago she had destroyed her third dragon and felt the first inkling that maybe, just maybe, her curse was not such a curse after all. Perhaps she did have it in her to do impossible things. That self-assurance fell to the wayside as Alvor berated Hadvar with doubts she had been too preoccupied to contemplate.

Now they plagued her, and she ignored the argument continuing in the house as her memory rolled over the past two weeks, coloring each moment spent in the soldier's company in a different light. Each enthusiastic greeting after only a short separation, every moment spent in each other's company, in each other's arms; had it been affection, or desperation? Was their bond built upon their complimentary personalities, or by the terror of surviving together?

Aneira felt each recollection sour inside her like poison, bringing her right hand silently to her mouth to stifle a sob. Alvor was still speaking to Hadvar, still telling him how wrong the entire situation was, and finally delivered a blow that made Aneira quake with guilt.

"You're so eager to sit around here waiting for her to come back. Haven't you noticed that _she_ didn't have any problem staying away for so long?"

"What are- That completely blows apart everything you just said, Uncle Alvor!" Hadvar yelled in exasperation. "If she and I were so traumatized by Helgen she wouldn't be able to leave either!"

"No," Alvor said solemnly. "It shows me that I'm right. She didn't stay put for more than a day here, and she's moving on free of whatever is holding you back. Aneira is a damn _Dragonborn_. You think she still cowers from the skies? Meanwhile you're wandering around town like it's too damn risky to go further than the bridge-"

"Husband, please," Sigrid objected, "that isn't helping."

"Neither does your mothering, Sigrid," Alvor retorted. "He's a grown man, he can take the truth."

"The only truth here is that I want to be with her," Hadvar said with quiet intensity. "And just because you can't understand it, or don't agree, doesn't mean it's wrong."

" _What about the wounded soldiers, Papa? Did they fall in love with their healers, too?"_

" _Oh, certainly. At least they thought they did. It's easy to grow attached to someone who saved your life." Papa had reached over and laid his warm hand on her head. "I just don't think a life debt is a healthy way to start a relationship, Ani._

Aneira let her head thud gently against the side of the house, not loud enough for the occupants to notice her presence. She closed her eyes and felt the grooves in the wood dig into her temple, folding her lips tightly as she fought at the wholly rationale voice in her head telling her that the old smith wasn't wrong.

" _But how can you tell if it isn't real, Papa?"_

" _Well, that I cannot tell you," he lamented, giving her another glance. "Why the questions about it, Ani? Have anything you need to tell me?" Ignacio had teased._

" _No," Aneira had huffed, so ignorant at 16. "The restoration trainers were talking about it when I went by for lessons._ _ **I**_ _wouldn't do something so ridiculous."_

After several minutes of painful inaction, Aneira ruefully brought her fist to the side of the house and knocked sharply three times, effectively bringing the conversation within to a sudden end. As she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door she pushed herself away from the wall and stood up straight, staring Sigrid in the eye when she widened the opening with a startled expression.

"Hello again, Sigrid," Aneira greeted cordially, her face mostly cleared of the defeat she felt inside and the grief at what she had to do next.


	11. Uncertain Futures

Alvor and Hadvar stared at her with matching expressions for the first few seconds, both appearing utterly stunned by her appearance. They stood by the cooking pit, each standing on one side as if they'd been facing off in a fiery battle. Given the argument she'd just interrupted, that wasn't far from the case. She inhaled deeply, fortifying herself against them both as each face became colored with the owner's true feelings. Hadvar began to smile hesitantly, blue eyes darting nervously from his uncle to her face for a few seconds before they rested on her. She met his stare for a second, allowing her lips to quirk slightly in greeting before she turned back to Alvor.

The smith's expression had begun to turn stormy, his displeasure at her interruption obvious. He turned to face her fully, bringing one hand away from where is gripped the mantle to point at her when she cut him off.

"Nice to see you again, Alvor," Aneira said calmly, if not a little coldly. Alvor's mouth snapped shut with a clap, his eyes narrowed on her. She shifted subtly, reining in her surging emotions. "It's been too long. If you don't mind though, Hadvar and I need to speak. In private," she added, the smith's face reddening in angry disbelief. She heard Sigrid make a small sound just behind her, likely the beginning of a protest, when the soldier beat her to reply.

"Of course," Hadvar said quickly, taking the few steps around the dining table to her side and laying a hand on her arm. "We have much to talk about." The Legionnaire turned to his uncle. "We'll be back later, Uncle Alvor." He didn't wait for either of his relatives to reply, subtly easing Aneira out the door. She complied, turning to go back out the opening without another word to Hadvar's aunt and uncle, certain her veneer would crack if they forced her to speak again. "Lead the way, sweet priestess," Hadvar whispered once they were down the steps, and her bravado almost collapsed then and there.

Hadvar didn't question her as she led him over the bridge, reaching out again to rest a hand against her back as they ambled over the rocks and shoreline. "You're quiet," he said as she took his hand to help him slide over a slick plane of stone. "I'm so sorry if you heard that. My uncle," Hadvar paused, struggling with the words as she gazed at him impassively, "he just gets stubborn. He doesn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Aneira reassured him, reaching up to cup his cheek. She kissed him gently, giving his fingers a squeeze before she pulled away. His eyes were still uncertain when they met hers, so she smiled at him and tugged forward, leaving their hands joined for the remainder of the walk. "I'm not mad about it." The fault lay with him and her, not the smith for being the one to point it out.

"Where did you go since you left? That's another new set of armor," Hadvar prompted, tugging on her hand until they walked side by side.

"I found it on a bandit in Valtheim Towers. Lydia and I went by them on the way to High Hrothgar." Aneira thrummed her free fingers against the overlapping leather scales. "It was already heavily enchanted to improve my health. Lydia said it was quite the find, really."

"Aye," Hadvar replied appreciatively. "Scaled armor doesn't come cheap. Although," he flicked her wrist before letting his eyes drift pointedly down to her feet. "You weren't lucky enough to find the whole set, it would seem."

Aneira pouted her lower lip slightly. "No, that bandit hadn't managed to get more than the body armor and helmet. But I'm getting pretty good at smithing," she nudged her shoulder against his. "Maybe your uncle will be impressed with that."

She saw Hadvar stare at her for a few moments, reading her face for how she meant him to take that comment. She smirked teasingly, stroking her thumb along his knuckles, and he eased. "Aye, I'm certain he will be. Perhaps you could show him your skills at his forge."

Aneira felt her smile widen, eyes shining as she felt another wave of tears build up. She brought him back up the river, the same as she had done the last time they'd been together. It had been the place where she'd first expected everything to fall apart, and maybe if it had happened then, if she'd been smart enough to make him leave for Solitude alone then, some damage would have been mitigated. As it was, she'd simply lain with him and begged him without words to stay with her instead of returning to his duty like a good soldier should. As her parents would have done. She grew flushed with shame now at the memory, pursing her lips when they reached the flat area where they had taken their long bath. Aneira allowed them to come to a slow halt, feeling Hadvar approach her left side. His chest brushed against her arm, his fingers still clasped around hers as she undid her helmet and lifted it away with her right hand.

"Where have you been?" Hadvar broke the silence softly, his eyes dropping from her own to gaze down her body.

"So many places," Aneira breathed, turning to face him. He brought their joined hands upward, pressing them between their bodies while he reached out with his left hand to graze her cheek. "If you could've seen the things I have," Aneira trailed off, the reason why he _hadn't_ seen them too prevalent in her mind.

"I missed you," he admitted, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head. "It feels like ages since you left." He sighed sadly, letting his forehead roll against her temple.

"It does," she agreed, reaching up with her right hand to wrap her arm around his neck. He accommodated her, lowering his hand from her cheek to encircle her waist. "Every time I come back it seems everything has changed again. I will tell you all about it, Hadvar, but you-"

Hadvar cut her off with a firm kiss, pressing their lips together for one heartbeat and pulling away in the next. "Gods, tell me you will wait," he begged, his breath fanning over her lips as he pulled in once more. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later," Hadvar assured her, reaching up to press his hands against her shoulder blades. He cut his mouth across hers again, the ardor in his embrace taking her breath away, and she fairly swooned in his arms as her feet arched until she stood on her toes to kiss him back. The front locks of his hair tickled her cheeks, and she gasped into his mouth as he pressed them flush together.

Her soldier didn't leave them like that for long, setting her away from him with his hands at her waist. He reached for her left wrist, keeping his head ducked as he undid the clasps keeping her arm guard around her with a practiced flourish. Aneira bit her lip, her throat seizing as her head fought valiantly against her selfish heart and body. She felt the brace give way, falling in slow motion to the ground as Hadvar let it go before moving hesitantly to undo the other. Though her skin began to tingle, Aneira made no move to help him until he brought his hands to the straps at her shoulders.

 _So be it_ , she thought in defeat. Her fingers reached for the thin straps of his cotton shirt, undoing them swiftly and bringing her hands down to his waistline to grip the hemline. _If I'm going to break our hearts, at least I shall be thorough._

She only prayed that he would forgive her for this last moment of hope and weakness.

He had her out of her armor in record time once the shyness faded away, though this time she had him undressed first. Once her decision had been made, she met his enthusiasm breathlessly, feeling his lips form into grins and smiles around hers as he lifted her in his arms. Aneira could not match his glee, despite her best efforts to put everything else out of her mind. Her kisses were desperate and her touches were firm, earning several surprised gasps and chuckles from the Nord. She felt almost deficient when he brought them to the hard ground with an open laugh, wishing she could give him the carefree lovemaking he seemed so happy to give her.

Aneira pressed her arms hard against his back as he hovered over her, fastening her lips to his neck. Hadvar groaned against her shoulder, swiping his tongue against her skin as he brought his hands down her body. He skimmed the fingers of his right hand over her breast, sending a shiver through her and making her stretch until he lowered his head against her body again. She folded her lips together as he gave her flesh his attention, sighing at the heat of his mouth upon her chest. Tangling her fingers in his thick red hair, she let him continue for a time before tugging him away and pulling his lips back to her own. Whatever she lacked here in lightheartedness, she would make up for with passion.

They were a tangle of limbs for so long that when they finally came together it nearly made her sob. Aneira preferred to keep her hands on his muscled back, letting her nails dig lightly into his shoulders when he made her toes curl. He panted in her ear as they moved together, kissing the shell and nipping it so lightly with his teeth he hardly touched it. She bent her knees to press them closer together, running one hand down the length of his spine and relishing the shudder that shot through him. He returned the favor, kissing her hard and holding her mouth with his until she gasped against him, a deep moan reverberating through her. The cry she made when they finally finished would have embarrassed her if Aneira was a bit more aware of herself, for hers echoed with Hadvar's through the mountains. As it was, all she could focus on was the weight that fell upon her when Hadvar collapsed, his hands sliding in the grass at her shoulders. She grunted at the impact, the air whooshing out of her in a gust even as she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as her wearied bones were able.

"Gods," Hadvar choked against her shoulder, his arms straining to lift himself back off her, "s-sorry. Didn't mean to-"

"You're fine," Aneira cut him off, a laugh finally finding its way past her melancholy at the embarrassment in his voice. "You're no burden to me." She said it without thinking, inadvertently recalling Alvor's harsh words when he was the last thing she wished to think of at the moment. She wriggled beneath him and stretched out her legs, rubbing the ball of her foot against his ankle. "This is wonderful."

Hadvar made a soft sound, his lingering chagrin still present when he turned toward her. He pressed a kiss against her cheek, caressing her smile with his lips. "You're wonderful." He sighed and centered himself, leaning down to kiss her mouth. "You can't imagine how much. I feel unstoppable when you're at my side."

"Oh," Aneira sighed, arching her back slightly and pressing against him. "You don't need me to be a force to be reckoned with. Who protected who when we were fleeing dragon fire?" Aneira felt him chuckle dismissively, and frowned as she pulled her hands up to cup his cheeks. "You are incredible," she swore before kissing him, feeling his body melt against hers.

Hadvar smiled good-naturedly, the same way anyone would brush away a compliment that they did not believe to be true. Aneira huffed lightly as he nuzzled against her cheek, clearly happy to leave the conversation be. For a time she let him, keeping their skin together as they reposed against the bank. Hadvar rolled onto his right side, keeping his left arm around her waist to brush his fingers from her breast to her hip.

"We could talk now, if you like," he murmured a bit sheepishly into her ear. "I- ah, I know I interrupted you earlier."

" _Hmph_ ," Aneira shrugged in his arms, turning her face from his body to meet his eyes. "That you did," she said, kissing him lightly. He pursed his lips against a grin, rubbing his nose against her. "I didn't really mind," she added, letting a hand trail up to cup his neck. He slid his right arm beneath her, bring the embrace full circle as he rested on his shoulder.

"Tell me about your adventures," he coaxed, letting the right side of his face lean against her forehead. "New armor, new weapons," he sighed against her, and she felt his entire body sink deeper into her. "What were you doing?"

"First I went back to Whiterun to go to Dustman's Cairn with Farkas." She settled in against him, thankful that the day hadn't begun to chill yet. She told him quietly about the word wall and the Silver Hand, conveniently leaving out that her new Shield Siblings were werewolves. Aneira pointed back to the sword she'd left in the dirt with her clothes. "It's forged with steel and silver. Did you know silver is useful against undead?" It felt good to just talk with him again, regaling him with the dragon she and Farkas had taken down together and the bandit camps that she and Lydia had destroyed for the Jarl. Hadvar choked when she told him of Meridia's Beacon, and laughed when she told him of Lydia's mothering. They disentangled themselves and pulled over her sack so she could show him the books she'd found on Restoration and Destruction magic, the Yellow Book of Riddles she wanted to give Dorthe, and the Daedra's luminous white orb. He put the broken piece of amulet that she'd found in Geirmund's Hall around his neck and marveled at his increased energy.

"Between fighting dragons and studying with the Greybeards you still found time to clear out two crypts?" Hadvar joked, handing the amulet back to her. "Where do you get the stamina?"

"My fierce desire to avoid poverty," Aneira quipped back, tucking the necklace back into her pack. "You'd be amazed at how much people will pay for the weapons and armor I find in those tombs and camps. And that doesn't even include the gems, gold, and anything else Lydia and I can carry."

"I still can't wrap my head around it," Hadvar added, sliding one finger across her shoulder to brush a lock of hair. "You're a Thane of Whiterun, a Companion, and the Dragonborn." His index finger lingered on her skin, wrapping the dark strands around it. "How did you accomplish so much in so little time?"

"It's almost impossible to comprehend," she admitted, laying down against him again. "Every time I wake up it seems that another new task is set before me. But lately I'm so eager to face them," she began tentatively, sliding the palm of her hand across his chest. "There's never a dull moment anymore, so every second seems important. Especially ones like this," she pressed her lips to his side and felt him shift. "I'm sorry we haven't had more of them."

"Aye, me too," Hadvar agreed, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders. "But there'll be time for that," he suggested, drawing her closer, "once we get to Solitude." Aneira stiffened, and she was certain the soldier felt it, for he went on in a hurry, "Officially clearing your name shouldn't take long. And I've been thinking," he went on, tilting himself against her so that her face was pressed against his collarbone, "the Legion could really use someone with your abilities. They're always recruiting more healers and battle mages. It gives us a leg up on the Stormcloaks. And that's not even including your ability to shout." She could hear his grin. "That would send the rebels running back to their towns." Aneira felt her throat clench uncomfortably, and she flexed it in an attempt to relax her entire body. "The Nords would stop fighting if their Dragonborn stood up with the Empire-"

"I can't, Hadvar," she interrupted quietly, sighing against him shakily. She'd known that this idea had to be coming. There was no other way for them to stay together. "Whatever lays before me as Dragonborn, there's no chance that I can join the Legion. Not now, maybe not ever."

The clench of his muscles felt like it reverberated through her. " _Why_?" Hadvar implored after a long moment of silence, remaining still beneath her.

"Because I have to go to Ustengrave, and then back to High Hrothgar, and then who knows where. My path isn't visible or firm for more than one mission at a time. I can't sign up with the Legion and commit myself to them when I have no idea what will be asked of me."

"Aneira, basic training wouldn't take so long. You're already too skilled to be placed with the new recruits-"

"That's not what I'm talking about, Hadvar," Aneira rose, feeling his hand slide from her right shoulder to the ground behind her back. "I know what the Legion would ask. Several weeks of training and assessment, patrols, long term and short term assignments in various locations. And," she tugged on her hair, pulling it back away from her face, "complete obedience to the chain of command. Taking orders without question and being a good soldier, even if you think there is a better way." She pulled her hair over her right shoulder, twisting it in her hands as she turned to face him. "There's no chance of that. Not now, and certainly not after Helgen. I-I _can't_ just forget about what happened."

Hadvar looked ashen, his hands pressing into the ground in agitation. He shook his head, eyes full of pain. "You told me over and over that you forgave me-"

"I _did_ ," Aneira reassured him, fully rotating her body until they were nearly chest to chest. She spared no thought for their still nude bodies, desperate to have him understand. "I don't hold anything that happened against you. I'm talking about that Captain, and General Tullius," she added, fingers fisting in the grass. "I don't agree with the Stormcloaks, not by a long shot. But how can I support an army that is throwing away the rights of the citizens they are sworn to protect?" Hadvar's lips thinned, his beautiful blue eyes drifting from hers and clouding with shame. She exhaled in frustration, throwing her hair back over her shoulder. "I can't throw in with either side. Not when I'm just starting to find my way as the Dragonborn." Aneira started to reach out her left hand, seeking the fingers of his right. He twitched slightly at the contact, but she squeezed the digits for a moment as she softly said, "I'm sorry."

Hadvar inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising as he held his breath for a long moment. He looked like he wanted to argue, fighting something that was on the tip of his tongue before letting the air blow past his lips. He returned the light pressure on her fingers, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand as he looked down.

"We both just," Aneira paused, forcing the words out of her mouth like bile, "have duties we can't ignore." He turned to face her again, the frown on his face a blank stare. "I don't know what's coming down the road next, and we can't just- just wait around for each other to find time to come back." He brows arched, the pain returning to his eyes as his expression slowly morphed to dread. "It's not fair, what I've been doing," she went on, staring at their hands and watching his knuckles roll beneath his skin. "Asking you to sit here while I run around the plains on quests. You're a soldier in the Imperial Legion. I shouldn't have expected you to just-"

"This is about my uncle," Hadvar accused, leaning toward her and rolling to his knees. Their hands pressed into the dirt as he leaned on them, putting his face closer to hers.

Aneira didn't respond at first, swallowing thickly before nodding shortly. "Aye, what he said wasn't- wasn't _wrong_."

"But don't worry about him," Hadvar insisted, reaching up his left hand to cup her right cheek. "He doesn't understand." Aneira looked away, her gaze unfocused on his chest as he protested as she knew he would. Hadvar brought their still clasped hands to his chest, pressing hers against the urgent beat of his heart. "He doesn't understand how I feel about you, Aneira," Hadvar breathed, letting their foreheads come together. "When I'm with you I feel like I can breathe again."

"Hadvar," Aneira choked, feeling his exhalation wave past her cheek. "That's just it. I felt the same way before. The first few times I left Riverwood, all I could think about was how long it would be before I could come back to you again." She pushed against his chest, forcing his body and face away from her as that she could pull them both to their feet. Hadvar stared at her, mouth parted as he breathed heavily. "But now, I-" Aneira pulled away, shaking her head as she took several steps away from him. "I still missed you," she clarified quickly, running both her hands up her neck. She pressed her fingers against curve of her shoulder, tilting her eyes to the sky as she prayed for calm. "But I didn't feel like I would fall apart if I stayed away too long. When I killed that dragon with the soldiers in Whiterun, I felt like I was going out of my mind. If you weren't there, who was going to keep me alive?" Aneira lowered her head, gazing at him pleadingly. "But you _weren't_ there, and that dragon died anyway. And then Farkas and I killed one together, and then I killed another one almost completely on my own." She turned out of habit to her pack, eyeing the gleaming sword that lay in the grass. "It's become a habit now, to keep an eye on the skies." She met his eyes again, hating the despair she saw there. "But it isn't driven by fear. Not anymore."

Hadvar's throat seized again, his fists clenching as he turned dejectedly to look out across the water. "Do you think me a coward, then? You think I'm hiding here, too."

Aneira briefly wondered how often and how badly her soldier and Alvor had swapped words about this, and rushed to reassure him. "No," she marched toward him again, cupping his neck and massaging the tension there. "You are without a doubt one of the bravest men I have ever known. You never stopped fighting in Helgen," she prodded, "and you risked your life to save that little boy." He didn't turn to look at her, sighing and letting his shoulders slouch. "But Hadvar, you haven't tried to live again since Helgen. And Alvor," Aneira cleared her throat, determined to say her piece before her tears started, "Alvor wants what is best for you. And I think-" her mouth dried again, her body fighting arduously to stop her from saying the rest, "that he's right about us. We aren't… aren't good for each other right now."

Hadvar's eyes fell close as she said that, his entire body flagging as if her words were a colossal weight. "You don't-" he started, lips folding over his teeth as he refused to turn away from the water. She wasn't certain what he wanted to say, looking down to notice the way his form shifted in distress.

"It isn't because I don't care about you," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly and moving her hand from his neck to his heart again. "I _do_. When I told you that I'd never felt this way about anyone before, that wasn't a lie!" Aneira opened her eyes again, feeling the water press against the lids. She was momentarily startled to see him looking at her, his eyes similarly clouded. "My feelings didn't change just because my fear faded." She hesitantly brought her left hand up, pressing both palms against the damp flesh of his neck again. "But if we don't go our separate ways, that doubt will always be in my head."

She'd said it. The words crashed against her ears as Hadvar watched her in silence for some time, lifting a single hand to brush away the tears that had leaked down her cheek. He leaned toward her again, hands coming up to grasp her shoulders as he stared at her with a desperate expression. "You don't want that. I _know_ you don't."

Aneira gasped haltingly, pulling back to put her hands on his arms. "Of course I don't," she admitted readily, clenching her fingers across his forearms. "But that isn't what matters. And you can't tell me truthfully that what your Uncle said hasn't grated on you, too."

Hadvar grimaced, his hands clenching and unclenching spastically over her bones while he fought to discredit her claim. She saw it in his eyes, though, that she'd hit the mark. She brought her right hand to his cheek, smoothing her fingers across the flushed skin. Hadvar leaned against her warmth for several seconds before turning his lips into her palm. He pressed a kiss there, eyes shuttering closed as he slid his mouth across her life line.

Aneira let out another shaky breathe, the muscles in her arm just beginning to pull her hand away when Hadvar's hands flew from her shoulders to her face. A single sound of surprise escaped her mouth before he had his lips over hers, his left hand secured behind her head and his right moving across her back. Their nakedness flew back to the forefront of her mind as he pressed himself against her, his body hot and hard while he brought hers up to meet his temperature. The distinct feeling of guilt that she had felt the first time welled up inside of Aneira again, for there was nothing playful or giddy in his kiss this time. He cut his mouth across hers so fiercely she felt her neck tip back from the force, his tongue sliding past her lips before she could even process how to respond. Her hand hung suspended over his shoulder for several seconds before she brought it back to his neck, fingers sliding into his hair as his right hand found her left leg and lifted it, gripping her thigh and tugging her until his hands were all that kept her upright. Hadvar swallowed her pants until she snapped her head to the right, filling her lungs with air as his lips followed the line of her jaw.

She knew she should take that opportunity to tell him to stop, to say that they should both walk away now before things got even more out of hand. But his mouth was warm and insistent on her, his hands in her hair and on her waist fervent, and she couldn't imagine telling him that she didn't want him. After finally telling him the truth, there was no point in lying again.

His lips moved to her neck and she arched her back, pressing against him so that her chest was squashed against his. Hadvar's constant kisses were interrupted as he groaned, his left hand leaving her hair so it could move down the side of her, brushing her breast and working its way between their bodies. Before he could, Aneira tugged down on his neck with her right hand, wrapping her left around his shoulders until he got the message and began to lower them to the ground. He bent his legs until he landed on his knees, her left leg more secured around his as she straightened her spine to slide herself against him and earn another deep sound from him. She let go of him to run her hands down his chest, thumbing over his dark nipples while he buried his mouth against her neck. He paused his movements to simply hold her for a moment, breathing heavily into the slope of her shoulder while with one hand she explored his chest and abdomen and with the other dug her nails carefully down his back. He pressed his hips against her, brushing his hot flesh along the skin of her stomach. Hadvar lined his left arm up against her spine, his hand gripping her neck while he braced them both with his right, lowering them hurriedly to the soft grass. It did not take long for him to set himself against her properly, and she arched up to accept him inside of her with her hands low on his back.

Meeting his movements until she felt ready to combust, Aneira fastened her mouth against the corner of his lip as her body broke and shuddered against him, arms limp and boneless back around his shoulders. Hadvar's movements lost their rhythm as he faltered, the jerk of his body tossing her limbs off of him and to the ground at her head. The force of his body when he collapsed was lighter than before as his elbows dug into the ground near her ribs, keeping the majority of his upper body off her. His head dipped to hers, his pants rushing past her ear as they both caught their breath.

After her heart began to calm again, Hadvar's hands crawled forward, reaching for her fingers and holding them lightly while he laid down against her, turning his nose into the crook of her neck beneath her chin. They lay like that until their breathing was deep and even, chests rising and falling against each other until Aneira almost wanted to fall asleep beneath him. She curled her spine at that moment, and Hadvar lifted his head to gaze into her eyes.

Those blue orbs pierced her searchingly, probing her with a question she could not even understand as he stared down at her. His lids were heavy, his mouth set in a dull frown when she made no response. His lips tightened, and Hadvar released her left hand to brush his knuckles against her cheek. His expression changed to pleading, and her heart ached as she realized that he had been hoping she would change her mind.

Aneira answered with a gentle hand on his cheek, her eyes meeting his steadily with nothing but compassion for him. The slow fall of his eyes from her face told her clearly enough that he'd understood. Digging her elbows into the dirt she pushed herself forward, wrapping her hand around his head and pressing her lips against his cheek. _I'm sorry_ , the kiss said against his skin. _This is how it has to be_.

Hadvar heard her plain as day, and loathed it just as much as she. Without warning he took his left palm away from the ground to catch her face again, smothering her mouth with his kiss until they both tumbled back to the ground. Aneira grunted at the renewed drive in his body, wrapping her legs around his hips without preamble and holding him tightly against her until her limbs were stiff from the pressure. The desperate, entreating sound that Hadvar made against her chest torn at her heart, but it did not break her resolve.

When they were finally spent and hardly able to move for the exhaustion, Aneira rolled herself to the water, rinsing her skin with Hadvar beside her. After, they stood close to help each other dress with limp fingers and hooded eyes, avoiding further conversation. Looking up, Aneira was momentarily surprised to see that the sun had only moved across a couple hours' worth of sky and that much of the afternoon was left to spend in each other's company. As they wandered slowly back toward the village with weighted hearts, she wasn't certain if that made her grateful or not.


	12. Two Roads Diverged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks everyone for reading!

She'd made the responsible decision to sleep at the inn the night before, parting with Hadvar's family when the sky was entirely dark. Thankfully, the establishment had been almost completely silent with the exception of the crackling hearth and Embry's occasional drunken declaration. Sven, by Stendarr's mercy, hadn't been given any requests and was languishing comfortably with a bottle of ale in the corner, only speaking as she came in to remind her that she was "nothing but trouble."

She heartily agreed with that sentiment, given the state in which she'd left the first person she'd attempted to help since reaching Skyrim.

Sleep itself had come remarkably easily considering the turmoil inside her heart, and she was certain she'd left more than a few tearstains on the pillow before she'd slipped into dreamland. Her actual slumber was far from peaceful, littered with fragments of every new memory, good and bad, currently running through her burdened head; Farkas exploding into a giant wolf, Ysolda and Carlotta smiling at her easily offered help, Vilkas's determined face between their clashing swords as they danced around the practice field, the Greybeard's stern, yet gentle instruction that made their faces morph into her father's, egging her on in the blistering cold of High Hrothgar. The days splintered and blended, showing the frost troll that had thrown her onto her side as it bellowed above her, raising its fists in domination before she managed to get a fireball into its face; the pack of wolves that set themselves upon she and Hadvar; the giant as it fell behind Aela with Aneira's ancient arrows in its neck and shoulder; Hadvar waiting in the village, wandering aimlessly while she leapt over mountains and crags like a madwoman on a mission; Hadvar's never-ending plea when she broke away and left him behind again; Hadvar's smile when she came back as if she were the sweetest sight he'd ever seen.

_Hadvar, I'm sorry. Hadvar, Hadvar-_

She'd come awake with a soft gasp, high and pitiful before immediately burying her head in the old pillow, stifling her breath until her throat loosened and she could inhale evenly again. Aneira turned onto her back, watching the blackness of the sky through the thin cracks in her room and noting that she'd only slept a short while. Her eyes drifted shut again without her accord, and she was pulled back into the dream world where everything was growing more twisted and tangled until it could never be examined alone again.

Her thoughts apparently weren't turbulent enough, because next she saw that dragon outside of Ivarstead soaring past her in a dark tempest of frost and dirt. She was on her back on the mountain, struggling desperately to get onto her feet again before the creature landed almost directly above her. It glared down with its piercing blue eyes that looked so much like Vilkas's disparaging scowl that she squirmed at the silent judgment. The enormous creature bared down on her, tilting its head in what looked awfully like contemplation, like true unclouded thought, which was the opposite of what she wanted the murderous, allegedly bestial monster to do. Aneira flinched into the ground, unable to look away from that disconcerting gaze that communicated intelligence, that offered a strange, unwanted kinship across the field of mortal combat. They hung suspended in that moment as the world tilted, leaving her disoriented and weightless until she finally stabbed her sword into the creature's snout, time rushing back to full speed in a jolt as the memory melted away and the dusty wooden roof of the inn was all that lay overhead. The sky shone milky blue through those same cracks now, shedding the slightest bit of light through the ceiling.

Aneira sat up quickly, palms and fingertips digging into the straw mattress and nearly ripping through the threadbare sheet in her aggravation. Kicking the blanket aside, she dressed hurriedly, throwing on her scaled armor as quickly as she could in the limited privacy of the inn.

Breakfast was consumed efficiently and quickly, her porridge and water going down tastelessly until she could set out for Whiterun again with a reasonable degree of energy.

_Breath and focus. Breath and focus._

Hadvar's appearance at the door to Alvor's house effectively curtailed her ability to follow the Greybeard's teachings.

He'd had a rough night; that much was obvious. The circles under his eyes weren't so prominent to be worrisome, but they were definitely notable. His face was drawn, a poor attempt at stoicism as they stood before his family at the door. Dorthe broke the silence by dashing into his leg, holding her older cousin tightly and pitifully saying how much she would miss him. He'd patted her on the head, accepting a quick hug from Sigrid and a gruff slap on the shoulder from Alvor before they had set off for the bridge together. The smith had been made aware of their circumstances simply from the reserved and quiet manner of his nephew and houseguest after their walk. Alvor had spoken to her lowly at one point while they prepared for dinner, laying a hand on her arm and quietly noting that it took a decent person to accept their duty when it went against what they had hoped for. Aneira hadn't responded, tempted for a brief moment to shrug the smith away and ask him if _he'd_ ever given anything up for a predestined duty he'd had no choice in, but she'd bit her tongue and reminded herself that she was not such a petty person.

Aneira was thoroughly aware of the stares that followed them from the small family until they were beyond the view of the village, heading steadily down the path toward the waterfall that fed the plains.

She turned to take it in one more time, watching the white mist rise away from the powerful current as it crashed down onto the rocks below. She knew the stones, though large and still durable, had become incredibly worn from years of relentless pounding, from years of standing against the ceaseless current until their original shape and structure had been lost to the tide.

Hadvar's hand was abruptly on her arm, fingers resting at her left bicep to draw her attention away from the river. She stumbled to a halt, blinking over at him in surprise for a moment before schooling her features again. He gazed back for a moment, himself startled at her reaction as they stood silently along the path. The soldier seemed to struggle with something, lips twitching as the words were caught between his teeth.

Aneira sighed, pressing her lips tight as she exhaled through her nose. She didn't move forward out of his touch, tilting her head to stare at him and grant him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

"You said you were heading to Ustengrave," he began slowly, and she didn't look away him. Not yet.

"Yes."

"That's just outside Solitude," he added, and she bit her lip, knowing the direction of his thoughts quite easily.

"I know," she agreed quietly. "It's in the mountains to the east."

The silence solidified around them as she turned to head down the steep hill and onto the plains. It wasn't until they were passing the first of the farms that dotted Whiterun's capitol that Hadvar finally pushed out the rest of what he wanted to say.

"Then why shouldn't we head there together?"

Aneira saw Severio Pelagia locking up before heading into his fields, and she gave him a wave and a nod while Hadvar gazed at her expectantly. She bit her lip out of his view, hating how logical that option sounded and how weak her response would sound.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said softly, turning her gaze to her right to stare at the looming fortress of Dragonsreach.

" _Why?_ "

She winced uncomfortably at the unmitigated hurt in his voice.

"Because the longer we drag this out, the worse it's going to be." She reached up, tugging the flagging straps of her satchel higher onto her shoulder. "The most painless way to go our separate ways is with a clean break." Her eyes slid to his in a sideways gaze. "It already hurts enough. Do you really want to spend those miles like this?"

Hadvar grimaced, his turn to move away from her gaze and look out across the plains.

"Being alone doesn't sound much better."

Aneira matched his expression. "Rip the dressing off all in one go. That's how you're meant to deal with pain."

Hadvar turned back to her, mouth twisted in pain again.

"That's what you consider us, now? A wound?"

"You know that's not what I meant-" Aneira tried to interject.

"Just something else for you to scrub out and heal with your hands until there's no trace of it left?" His voice was hard, but it cracked enough for her to hold back her own anger at his deliberate antagonism.

"Don't try to do this," Aneira replied sadly, turning back to the path as the turn toward and stables approached. "Don't try to pick a fight with me. You're angry, and hurt, as am I. Trying to start a fight won't make this any easier. It's just going to make us both even more unhappy that we yelled at each other the last time we saw each other."

She thought Hadvar gave a small sigh then, but he said nothing else. The silence was enough, and she heard the cold, wary part of her demand she leave it that way. Give no more room to cause each other pain. But the compassionate part, the part that, indeed, her father had said was what made her a healer, was urging her to balm the sting, even if only a little.

Tilting her head to look at him slightly, she let go of the grip she had on her satchel to reach across the distance between them and offer him her hand.

He gave no hesitation, no petty glare or spiteful refusal. Hadvar clasped her hand as readily as she had offered it, and her throat closed in grief.

They stopped a short distance before the Khajiit caravan, next to a large patch of purple mountain flowers. Aneira turned to face him, reaching out in unison to join their empty hands.

She looked at him, really looked at him as she had been avoiding since the night before. His eyes were still the same vibrant blue, though laden with a sadness that had not been there when they'd met. Hadvar's hair swayed lightly in the gentle breeze, and Aneira pressed her lips together firmly as she took in how beautiful her copper haired Nord was.

He stepped closer, releasing her hand and bending down carefully, his face a few inches from her side. Perplexed, she backed away to the side until he rose again, a perfect bloom clutched gingerly in his large hand. Aneira felt her throat clench spastically, and forced herself to meet his eyes again.

Hadvar held out the purple blossom to her, waiting until she took it before resting the now empty fingers against her cheek.

"I'll see you again, someday." he said mournfully, eyes roaming over her face like he was trying to memorize every feature from that one last look.

Aneira's smile waivered, and a few tears made valiant efforts to break from her eyes.

"I'm sure of it," she answered.

They brought each other into the circle of their arms, gripping fiercely for a few moments. Aneira felt the warmth of him against her, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

Hadvar brought his own hands to her cheeks, tilting her away just far enough to kiss her one more time. It was fleeting; sweet and chaste. He pulled away again in the next moment, and their hands fell away from each other.

"Goodbye, sweet priestess," Hadvar gave a small nod, moving back toward the main road. His eyes still glittered.

Aneira smiled, gathering herself together again with a shaky inhale.

"Goodbye, my soldier."

The man turned away from her then, and walked deliberately down the hill. Aneira watched him walk away for a short while, only turning to head into the city once he'd reached the path. None of her tears managed to escape, even when she entered the tall gates alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhhhh I hated to write that but I HAD to. That's how the story goes.
> 
> Please leave any feedback and check out Aneira's other stories!


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